The battle was reaching its end. The human army, originally two thousand strong, now had roughly a thousand left, fighting a last stand. In terms of forces, half had been annihilated. It would not be an exaggeration to call it a rout. On top of that, the enemy was completely surrounded on all sides. There was no hope for them. Or so there should have been...
"Stubborn."
Zepar muttered, sounding bored. It was true. The human army was tenacious, like hounds. By this point, they could not possibly be unaware that they had fallen into a devastating trap. Yet they continued fighting a hopeless battle.
"Ha, I can't make sense of it. Bugs like them... Are they expecting the situation to improve?"
Amy, ranked fifty-eighth, picked up the discontent. He had been leading a five-hundred-strong unit at the front before joining up with us. He had served as bait to lure the imperial forces this far. He could well be called a hero of this war.
Perhaps the anxiety about earning honors had finally dissipated. Amy's temper had cooled considerably compared to before. Though whenever our eyes happened to meet, he would avert his gaze as if frightened... You're making me look bad, Amy. Acting that obviously afraid actually hurts my feelings. Despite appearances, I am the kindest gentleman in the Demon Realm. I'd really wish he wouldn't avoid me so much.
I spoke.
"They must have seen through our intentions."
"Seen through our intentions?"
Zepar asked back. Meanwhile, Amy flinched and gradually averted his gaze. There he goes again. It really did feel like I was going to hurt his feelings... Well, there was nothing to be done. Sooner or later, I would have no choice but to sit down and have a proper talk with these newly appointed Demon Lords.
"They must have surmised that we are the vanguard of the Crescent Alliance Army. Even if they cede the Red Fortress, they intend to delay us as long as possible — I believe that is the resolve they are burning with."
"I see. Desperate, yet hope remains."
Zepar nodded with his usual expressionless, dignified face. Perhaps he felt a certain fondness for those who resisted to the very end. But, hope...
"It's just like Pandora's box."
The Demon Lords tilted their heads. Oh dear — it seemed this world had no Pandora myth. Besides, the war was starting to bore me anyway. Maybe I'd tell a story to pass the time.
I had heard somewhere that as long as hope remains, humans endure life. An ancient myth-maker had actually mocked that notion and created the tale of "Pandora's Box." In truth, hope does not exist anywhere in the world — it was hidden away by the gods inside a jar as a cruel prank. Without knowing this, humans yearn for hope, willingly breathing in the dust of life as though hope must exist somewhere...
"So the idea is that hope itself is a catastrophe for humanity."
Zepar's tone held a note of admiration. I thought so too. The theme of this story was not some hymn to hope. It was the sardonic sneer of a rather cynical myth-maker, warning that hope itself is an inescapable calamity.
The Demon Lords' sensibilities must have resonated with it, because the others were laughing, saying it was an entertaining story. Goodness gracious — Demon Lords really were all twisted psychopaths, one and the same. If Mother ever found out that her son was keeping company with these kinds of characters, how would she react? She would surely dissolve into tears, wailing, "My sweet, innocent boy — with such low-class thugs..." It was truly troublesome. They say you become like those you spend time with. I needed to be careful lest these characters corrupt my innocent self.
"But I'm not entirely satisfied. Aren't you saying that to them, we're still a weak enough calamity to be permitted hope?"
I snickered.
"A Demon Lord must be the most catastrophic of all calamities. It would be a disgrace to the Legion Commander himself to trail behind something as trivial as hope."
"Oh my. Dantalion, do you have a good idea?"
Zepar gazed at me with eyes brimming with interest. The man had a dignified face, so it was easy to overlook, but he was quite the pervert. I could practically hear my mother's lamentations from here. There was nothing to be done. He was my superior, and I was a pitiful subordinate. My only option was to meekly obey orders.
"I humbly have a card I've been saving for just such an occasion. With the Commander's permission, I'd like to reveal it."
"Very well. For this once, I'll forgive anything. I'm deeply curious what your card might be. You're all curious too, aren't you?"
Zepar sought agreement from those around him. Balam, Amy, and the other Demon Lords nodded. This meant that what I was about to do had the tacit approval not just of Zepar personally, but of the entire vanguard command. He'd expertly shifted the blame. Would those rookie Demon Lords realize that by nodding just once, they'd eliminated Zepar's vulnerability? Probably not. They'd never know.
A grin leaked through my teeth. Hearing the sound, Amy's shoulders shook again. It was fun how she reacted to every little thing I did. I was starting to get addicted. I'm sorry, Mother. Your unfilial son has already been ever so slightly tainted by bad company…
My secret trump card was, of course, the Death Knights I'd received from Barbatos. Normally, they existed as incorporeal spirits hovering around me, but the moment I gave the order, they manifested their physical forms immediately. When the twelve black knights appeared, the Demon Lords let out small gasps of admiration. The Death Knights boasted martial prowess on par with Ogres. Yet they were human-sized and could move freely in stealth — they were without question a superior troop type compared to Ogres.
"Superb! A true lion hides even a single claw while giving its all!"
Zepar clapped his hands. Yet despite his enthusiastic tone, his eyes were sharp. He'd hidden his full strength even from his allies. If the Death Knights had been deployed from the start, the mountain fortress could have been taken far more easily. If I were being slightly dramatic, one could almost call it sabotage.
I bowed my head respectfully.
"I humbly request to finish off the enemy's last desperate stand myself."
"Very well. Permission granted."
I promptly had Laura annihilate the enemy command in a single strike. The reason I didn't issue orders to the Death Knights directly and instead routed everything through Laura was that this way, all the experience points would funnel to her.
Ever since we'd repelled the E-rank adventurer party, I'd been funneling experience to Laura in this way. Thanks to that, she currently boasted dazzling stats.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Laura de Farnese
Race: Human Affiliation: Dantalion's Demon Lord Army
Alignment: Neutral (-10)
Level: 31 Fame: 512
Class: Strategist (B), Scholar (D), Sex Slave (D)
Command: 81 Martial: 11 Intelligence: 84
Politics: 10 Charisma: 57 Technique: 1
Affinity: 76
Loyalty: 99
*Titles: 1. Disgraced Duke's Heir 2. Genius 3. Loyal Retainer
*Abilities: Riding B+, Rhetoric B, Music C, Tactics B+, Geometry D, Operations C
*Skills: -
Current Mental State: 'Hmm, seems like it'd be only slightly easier than wringing a chicken's neck.'
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
She was a stark contrast to me, who was still stuck at Level 24. She always looked so dependable. I ordered Laura to capture the commander known as Kurz Schleiermacher alive. She snapped off a crisp military salute and set out with twelve knights in tow.
Well, after that, it was simple enough.
A horrible scream rang out from the front lines, and in the blink of an eye, a gap opened up in their formation. Twelve was generous—it was more like a swarm of small-framed Ogres punching through en masse. To make matters worse, the Death Knights had Physical Resistance (-80%). Imagine having the same attack and defense as an Ogre, but when someone swings a blade at you, only 20% of the damage goes through. From the perspective of an enemy army without a mage corps, it was as if the Grim Reaper himself had descended.
The monster horde surged through the gap the Death Knights had torn open. That was the end of it. The human army, which had held out for nearly forty minutes even while surrounded and facing annihilation, crumbled without a shred of resistance. A moment later, five consecutive holograms popped up announcing that Laura's level had risen. It seemed she'd been rewarded for collapsing the enemy's battle lines and for wiping out their commanders.
"This man is Kurz Schleiermacher, my lord."
Laura returned with the knights in tow. Her beautiful golden hair was stained with fresh crimson blood. The fact that I found even that beautiful told me I must be wearing rose-colored glasses.
"You cursed leper bastards!"
Two Death Knights were holding a human man by either arm. He was spitting blood from his mouth and hurling every curse imaginable. Looking closer, his right arm had been cut off. Laura bowed her head apologetically.
"I apologize. He was resisting so fiercely..."
"Ahh, it's fine. An arm or two will grow back once you cut them off anyway."
"......"
The novice Demon Lords stared at me, tongues practically hanging out. Their eyes were screaming, "How is an arm like hair?" It was disappointing. It was a light black joke. Even Kurz Schleiermacher, who had literally moments ago been vomiting blood and screaming, was gawking over at me with a blank face.
"The one who invited you here was me, Kurz Schleiermacher. I've had quite an interest in you for some time."
"For... some time?"
"Yes. Quite a long time."
I smiled gently.
I checked his Status Window.
───────────────────────
[Name] [Stamina] [Attack] [Defense]
- Kurz Schleiermacher 5/65 43 34
───────────────────────
Bingo.
This was indeed the Kurz Schleiermacher I had been searching for. His face was a bit rougher than the game illustration, but a little discrepancy like that was bound to exist. What was odd, though, was his attire. I had heard he was a deputy commander, yet from the way he was dressed, he looked every bit a nobleman. There was even a family crest emblazoned on his breastplate.
I tilted my head.
"I was under the impression you were a commoner."
"...The commander-in-chief perished in the chaos of battle."
"Ah, so a lowly commoner adjutant impersonated the commander."
I understood the situation. A commander killed in the chaos of battle — never mind the command structure, the rank and file would have been thrown into confusion. To smooth things over, Kurz Schleiermacher had stolen the commander's armor and donned it himself. It was exactly the sort of thing you'd expect from a general famously known for his strong sense of responsibility toward his soldiers, just as in Dungeon Attack.
"So that makes you the current commander of the human army. A defeated army, and yet."
"Ptoo!"
Kurz spat. It hit my left eye with a splat.
Without wiping the smile from my lips, I casually brushed the spit away with my hand. It was thick with blood. Sticky. ...Well, fine. Now that I'd confirmed his identity, there was no reason to take any further interest in him.
I drew a dagger and drove it into Kurz's forehead. I felt his skull cracking apart against my palm.
Kurz's body lost all strength, wobbled, and then face-planted into the dirt. Dust covered his eyes. In the end, his dying words were "Ptoo!" Now if that wasn't a magnificent final act, I don't know what is. If there hadn't been anyone watching, I would've even applauded.
I waited for a moment. Kurz Schleiermacher held several rather important scenarios in Dungeon Attack. Killing him should have granted me a massive experience point reward. That was the last thing I'd been aiming for in this battle.
But.
"...?"
After waiting for tens of seconds, no hologram appeared. Wondering if he wasn't actually dead, I examined Kurz's corpse. His forehead had been pierced clean through and blood was seeping out in streams — if that wasn't dead, then Kurz wasn't human but a zombie. Something was off.
'What the hell? Why? Why isn't a Quest Break popping up?'
Maybe my constant head-tilting looked odd, because Zepar asked what was wrong. I said nothing was the matter. There was no other way to answer. I certainly couldn't say, "I completed the quest but there's no reward."
I gave an awkward smile.
"It's nothing. Your Excellency, please make the victory declaration."
The battle was over.
The operation I'd named "Antlion Pit" was a spectacular success. Our side lost a mere three Ogres and roughly five hundred other monsters, while the human army — combining the Green, Blue, Yellow, and Red defense forces — had been completely annihilated, some three thousand in all.
Dawn approached.
Twilight illuminated the land — the land blanketed with human corpses. The monsters had been bustling about all night, smoking the bodies into jerky. Dozens of columns of black smoke rose into the sky, slowly brightening to a blue-grey in the dawn light. Gazing upon what could only be described as a majestic sight, I asked myself:
"...What on earth went wrong, after all?"
As expected, there was no one around to give me an answer.
In the end, I returned to camp satisfied with our victory in the war. Zepar and the new Demon Lords were also celebrating the great triumph. There was no point in me being the only one brooding; it would just spoil the mood. Still, even as I outwardly expressed my joy, a corner of my heart felt uneasy.
An unexpected discomfort clung to me like a shadow.