Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: The Dream Demon Queen
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‘What’s her intention?’
Damian let out a hollow laugh and tilted his head.
-There’s no need to keep up the act all the way out here.
-If you wish, I can request the annulment of our engagement first.
She had said it so openly at the ballroom. He thought the opening was just polite formality, but looking at the end, it read like a saccharine love letter.
He turned the letter this way and that, wondering if some code was hidden in it, but there was nothing to find.
Even before his regression, he had never received a separate invitation. Most fiancés met outside before marriage. That was the norm.
Yet she was openly inviting him to her residence? No matter how upright Agnes’s character was said to be, he couldn’t help but suspect impure motives.
“What clothes should I prepare~?”
Anna, unaware of the details, hummed a tune as she left the room. She seemed to think it was a fresh tale of young love between a boy and a girl.
‘It’s a decent opportunity, in its own way….’
Damian turned to gaze at the continental map. Marked on it were the findings he had gathered over the past two years.
Among them, the location where he was to meet Agnes. In the Teya Mountains there, he could secure three Books of Hell.
Two of the three were Mem. Hellfire was Damian’s main black magic, so having spares wouldn’t hurt.
The other was He. He could contract with a gargoyle and learn the black magic—Stone Scales.
But he didn’t make plans right away. Entering the Teya Mountains was practically impossible.
That changed if he went with Agnes.
The ones managing that place were the Schubert family. With her, a direct descendant, it wouldn’t be hard to gain entry.
Of course, it would take effort to persuade her, but it was worth trying.
The problem was the worst-case scenario.
‘What if she comes at me with a sword right away….’
Given her personality, the odds were low, but now that her long-hidden secret was exposed, she might act differently than usual.
‘Can I win?’
A knight with a promising future. That was the public’s evaluation. Put another way, it meant she was still green.
But Damian knew she was hiding her power. She kept her fangs sheathed, avoiding excessive attention until the optimal moment arrived.
‘If I use one Mem, it should be fine….’
But he had to conserve the Books of Hell as much as possible. His ultimate goal was Michael and Rubia, after all.
“Young master~. Which outfit will you wear?”
Anna said as she laid out a pile of clothes. They were from the tailor who had visited last time; she had ordered several more besides the one for the ball.
“You and Felix come along too.”
Damian said to the maid, who beamed innocently like a big sister cheering on her brother’s romance.
Separate from whether Agnes hated him or not, her morals were solid. Even during the civil war, she was one of the few who cared about civilian casualties.
As the war intensified and war crimes became routine on both sides, she had even challenged Michael to a one-on-one duel to end it quickly.
The result was Agnes’s defeat. The civil war raged even fiercer afterward, but it clearly showed her upright nature.
Even if there was a slim chance she was preparing an ambush, bringing Anna and Felix along would make her bide her time for another opportunity.
It pricked his conscience to use the two of them. But he didn’t want to pass up the chance, gamble or not.
“How shy~. You’re still so innocent.”
Anna, oblivious to his inner thoughts, covered her mouth and giggled.
Damian shook his head as he watched her. Before meddling in others’ love lives, maybe she should sort out her own.
“How will you handle the gift?”
“No need for a gift….”
Zap. Anna rested a hand on her hip and shot him a glare.
“Doing it again. Even if she’s your fiancée, these little things matter.”
Aside from her hated uncle, Damian was probably the most loathsome person to Agnes. Would she even want a gift from someone like that?
“It’s not about the value of the item. It’s the thought and the gesture that count.”
Anna expounded her personal philosophy on romance. It was baffling how someone so knowledgeable had no man around her.
‘Or does she have a secret lover?’
Flowers, jewels, accessories, and more. Anna rattled off several options. They were the sorts of gifts any ordinary woman would love, but the Agnes Damian knew didn’t care for such things.
“Ah. There’s something perfect.”
Anna made a subtle face at Damian’s suggested gift. It was ambiguous as a present for one’s fiancée.
But Damian was certain it was the most fitting gift, considering the recipient.
* * *
That night, Damian visited the ruins once more.
Even if black magic was forgotten, he couldn’t let others see his contract with a demon. It would awaken memories of demons’ existence.
Thus, the palace had no better spot than this.
Thud. Damian placed the Book of Hell-Mem on the shelf.
Whoosh. Hellfire bloomed from his five fingertips.
“With this, the Book of Hell-Mem becomes mine.”
As he declared it, the Book of Hell burned up and was absorbed into Damian.
[Kekekeke. You’ve found another of my traces. Good, very good.]
Molech’s voice echoed from his soul. The connection with Molech had deepened through absorbing the Book of Hell.
[To even know how to use it already. What a fascinating child. Still, use it wisely. My traces are scattered across your world, but they’re not infinite.]
“How many Books of Hell are there in total? Do you know, Molech?”
Before his regression, he had neither reason nor time to collect them all.
They had converged toward the continent’s center for some reason, but in the end, Damian had to hunt them down one by one.
Now it was possible. And necessary.
[….]
Molech paused before answering.
[No demon knows that.]
The lord of hell stated it definitively. But it was odd. Hadn’t they spread the Books of Hell across this world?
[Not us. They’ve existed on this land from the beginning. Not infinite, but consumed Books of Hell will reappear someday.]
That made sense. Past black mages had also contracted demons via the Books of Hell, so if they didn’t regenerate, they’d run out eventually.
[There’s another one.]
The Book of Hell-Gimel still in his right hand. Molech had sensed it.
[Kekekeke. That sleepy princess will come rushing past her servants. She’s fascinated by such things.]
That ‘fascination’ had allowed him to contract with her before his regression too. If even Molech said so, it was certain.
“□□□ □□.”
Damian placed the Book of Hell-Gimel on the shelf and recited its title just as before.
The floating book rustled open, and Damian reflexively recited its contents.
As the book closed, pink mist billowed from within.
As expected. This mist wasn’t the work of ordinary dream demons. It was the power of their master.
The mist carried an indescribable fragrance. Like heartstrings plucked by downy feathers.
Having anticipated it, he didn’t panic like he had with Molech.
[Huaaaam~.]
Beyond the mist, the figure of a demurely seated girl appeared.
[A bit cramped.]
Proportionally, she was a girl. Yet even sitting, her head reached the high basement ceiling.
[Still, glad I came.]
The girl—no, demon—in her frilly nightgown hugged a massive camel plushie.
Her floor-length pink hair gleamed like the finest silk. Her half-lidded eyes looked ready to drift into slumber.
Gremory.
Queen of dream demons.
The one who tended vast flower gardens in hell’s south.
“Gremory, queen of all dream demons. I wish to contract with you.”
Instead of answering, Gremory bowed her head. Her thick eyelashes fluttered between blinking lids. Her lake-like eyes overwhelmed with depth, color, and sheer size.
As the distance closed, even her breath became tangible. It smelled like the mist, but twice as potent.
[Pretty.]
Gremory prodded Damian’s cheek with a massive finger.
He could feel the delicacy in her touch, as if afraid he might shatter.
[Like you. Good. I’ll do it.]
That was it. With a nasal tone, a new contract settled into Damian’s soul.
Dream demons cared more about beauty than their alluring forms. Thus, she contracted with Damian without conditions.
Less than Rubia, but Gremory took great interest in Damian’s looks too. That’s why she appeared after just two dream demons.
Unlike Rubia or Ishtar, she harbored no madness. She was a lord of hell favorably inclined toward him in many ways.
Come to think of it, Ishtar hadn’t shown herself since his regression. A side effect of turning back time?
[Hmm! Focus. The one contracting with you now is Gremory, great lord of hell and queen of all dream demons.]
The giant girl furrowed her brow and puffed her cheeks. It was oddly cute, yet faintly terrifying.
[Uhmm….]
After the contract, Gremory’s brow furrowed further.
[Not first. Molech. That pervert.]
Before regression, Gremory had been Damian’s first hell lord contract.
This time, he’d unexpectedly contracted Molech first, so she felt robbed of her place.
[Hehehe. But you’ll gain more of my power.]
Black magic—Hellfire only shone in combat.
The black magic—Absorption from this contract wasn’t suited for direct battle but had many uses.
Ordinary dream demons’ Absorption only drained mana. But Gremory’s could extract mana, life force, memories, and more.
Before regression, when asked to interrogate, he’d used Absorption to pull memories directly from those enduring even Hellfire’s pain.
He hadn’t used it often. Beyond the risks, Damian himself disliked the act.
Setting aside turning the target into a vegetable, peering into another’s life wasn’t pleasant. One slip, and he might lose his sense of self.
“By the way, Gremory.”
[What?]
“Have we met before, by any chance?”
Demon contracts imprinted on the soul. Ishtar’s power had erased them all, but traces might remain.
So Gremory might remember him.
[No. If we had, I wouldn’t forget you.]
The giant girl-shaped demon shrugged. She didn’t seem to be hiding anything.
It wasn’t even certain if his regression affected hell.
Then did Ishtar, the culprit, remember him? Much remained unknown.
[See you again. Smile next time.]
Leaving the basement, Damian spotted an apple. With prior experience contracting Gremory, no separate training was needed unlike with Molech.
He applied Absorption to the apple in his hand.
Pink energy rippled over the ripe fruit before it shriveled. He’d extracted its life force—its nutrients.
The process itself brought no special pain.
The real issue came next.
These weren’t ordinary nutrients absorbed naturally. Without proper refinement, the body saw them as foreign matter.
Damian focused his mind, converting the fruit’s nutrients into a form his body could absorb.
Any lapse in concentration would trigger immediate side effects.
Thus, not a black magic for battle. But even this much was revolutionary for mages.
‘Rubia was curious about Absorption too.’
The archmage had used similar magic, but the efficiency was incomparable.
Damian extracted over 90% of the apple’s nutrients; Rubia barely half.
She hadn’t even dreamed of pulling mana or memories from others—too risky.
Fully absorbing extracted power was standard Absorption. But Gremory’s went a step further.
Hum hum. A pink orb at his fingertip hummed oddly. The processed nutrients from the apple.
Materialization.
He couldn’t yet detach it from himself, but it took physical form.
Before regression, he’d had no way to exploit it. No leisure amid constant battles; such pursuits were luxuries.
Now was different. Time—Damian’s greatest asset post-regression.
For instance, storing extracted mana could provide instant replenishment in crises.
‘If materialized, could others absorb it too?’
If so, potion-making would be more efficient than any method. Selling them would yield vast funds.
Shaaa. The pink orb returned inside him. The nutrients fully absorbed.
Damian tossed the withered apple to the floor and exited the forest.
* * *
On a night when the full moon illuminated like a sublime ruler, a woman soaked in her bathtub under its light.
Moonlight cascaded over her moist legs. Pleased with her flawless, downless skin, she snapped her fingers.
Violet mana rippled atop one hand. It moved like a living fish—an artificial lifeform conjured by mana.
Honed further, might it not touch the realm of true creation? All who saw her magic voiced such expectations.
They meant nothing to her. Such trifles weren’t worth her gaze.
“Beautiful, isn’t it.”
Crunch. She clenched her fist, and the floating mana fish condensed to a point.
An ordinary mage might scramble to preserve it for replication, but to her, it was mere play.
“You’re watching this moon too, aren’t you, Damian.”
She hoped so. Hoped that beautiful boy was taking in the same sight.
No, not a boy now—a fine young man. Rumor had it his body had grown rapidly in recent years, likely matching her ideal.
Knock knock. Footsteps approached from outside. She answered with silence. A sword-bearing knight entered the bathroom.
“Word from that side, miss. They say they’ll carry out the mission immediately.”
“Perfect.”
She waved languidly and sank deeper into the tub.
The boy had left the garden to become a youth. She respected whatever choice he made.
‘He’ll be mine in the end, after all.’
But he shone so brilliantly, unconsciously luring insects.
She’d have ignored it otherwise, but since Damian chose change, she ought to swat the bugs.
That was Rubia de Clarent’s duty.