Imperial Year 1506. Late spring.
It had already been a whole year since I'd been dropped into this world without the faintest clue why. A year—it sounded like some kind of joke. I'd never felt so viscerally how time flows like water. And I was still far from being an old man.
I'd nearly died at the hands of Leaf's adventurer party. I'd made a killing—literally and figuratively—off the Black Death business. I'd rescued Laura. I'd killed Jack. I'd killed Andromalius. That last bit had dragged me into a whole mess of trouble in Niflheim. And now, here I was, having convinced Barbatos to spread rumors that would plunge the entire Human Realm into a war fought on pure terror… When you looked at it all, calling this a mere one-year schedule was a stretch. A workaholic would've quit in shock and run for the hills.
If I could go back exactly one year and tell my past self what the future held—hey, you shut-in loser, you're about to be dropped into a place with the same setting as Dungeon Attack, and you'll suffer as the weakest Demon Lord in existence—he'd probably think I'd lost my mind. Well, that insane scenario had actually happened. God, I missed my mom all of a sudden…
Anyway, this world had cherry blossoms too. The area where the army had set up camp was blanketed in them. Under the snow-white petals, everything was so radiant it was blinding—even the orcs looked beautiful. I'd been lost in thought, enjoying the view, when someone spoke to me.
"My lord. Commander Zepar is convening a meeting."
It was Laura. She'd joined the Crescent Alliance Army as my adjutant. There were plenty of people who openly mocked me for taking a human as my second-in-command, but I couldn't be bothered to care. Why would I? I was a meritocracy kind of guy. As long as they could keep me alive in this world, I didn't care whether they were Demonkin or human.
"He's a commander who leads only fifty soldiers. Would it even matter if I went?"
"Commander Zepar has summoned every Demon Lord in the vanguard unit. You should at least show your face, my lord."
Laura gave me a wry smile. It was the exact expression you'd wear while watching a troublemaking younger brother. Oh great—apparently Laura was more emotionally mature than me. I'd let a complaint slip to her without thinking, and now here we were.
Rank 71. That was my standing, and the treatment I received in return was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I bore the title of Demon Lord, but the force I commanded amounted to a grand total of fifty soldiers. And most of those were low-grade golems and low-grade fairies at that. From the other Demon Lords' perspective, I must've looked like an absolute joke. I fully understood how they felt. But that didn't mean I was going to sit there and let them push me around. I could be surprisingly petty, you know.
"Sorry about that. There've been more and more people picking fights lately…"
"Can't you just shut them up with your strength?"
Laura fixed me with a clear, steady gaze from behind those green eyes.
"I believe in you, my lord."
Wow, Laura really was mature. As a human, she'd be getting far worse and more vicious mockery than I was. I'd tossed out the opening line expecting the two of us to gossip about the other Demon Lords, but instead I'd gotten encouragement. Ever since our bodies had been linked, the bond between Laura and me had only grown stronger. I couldn't help but laugh, a little bashfully.
"Then shall we go show our faces?"
"Yeah."
I was assigned to the vanguard of the Sixth Legion, led by Barbatos.
The moment the Crescent Alliance Army was officially formed, Barbatos quickly organized the Sixth Legion. The Demon Lords from the Plains Faction restructured their forces under his command with seamless discipline. Chain of command, units, military orders — a full legion was assembled in the blink of an eye. Naturally, the Sixth Legion was the first to march out. Paimon watched us set off with a bored expression.
The Plains Faction was a den of warmongers. Barbatos was practically their king. He proved just how long they'd been gearing up for war. I guarantee it — every last one of those who cheered when they heard the Crescent Alliance Army had been formed at the meeting that day was from the Plains Faction.
Meanwhile, the Mountain Faction was sluggishly dawdling. Rumor had it they hadn't even established a proper chain of command yet. No voices rose to publicly criticize them, but it must have been a blow to the pride of Paimon, commander of the First Legion.
*'Huh. Looks like the First Legion is planning to go flower-viewing or something.'*
The killing blow was the line Barbatos delivered straight to Paimon's face. He accused them of planning to tag along late on roads the other legions had worked hard to pave. Paimon's face flushed red, as was only natural.
He glared fiercely at Barbatos but couldn't muster a reply. After the Belial incident, the Plains Faction had already scored the first round — and now Paimon had handed us a second. I could only wish them the best. If they didn't step up their game, what was the point of me having planned this grand war?
"You've come, Dantalion."
I entered the tent with Laura in tow. The old man seated in the place of honor greeted us. He was Zepar — the Demon Lord ranked sixteenth, appointed as vanguard commander of the Sixth Legion.
"Yes, Lord Zepar. I've come to receive your orders."
"Mm. Make yourself comfortable and stand by."
Zepar nodded with satisfaction at my respectful salute. His well-groomed beard gave him a distinguished air. His bearing and speech carried a weight that was lacking in flashy charisma, but he gave off the strong impression of a seasoned veteran.
*'And he's younger than Barbatos — imagine that.'*
You could never tell a Demon Lord's age just by looking. I went to my assigned seat and sat down. Laura stood at attention behind me. We must have been the first to arrive, because the tent was empty aside from Zepar, his adjutant, myself, and Laura.
"We're late. We apologize."
"Did you summon us, Lord Zepar?"
"We're at your service."
As time passed, Demon Lords filed in one or two at a time. Among them, some rendered crisp salutes while others skipped the formality altogether. The former had participated in the Crescent Alliance Army before — veterans, you could call them. The latter were newcomers joining for the very first time.
The newcomers mocked the human armies, calling them cowards and greenhorns, boasting that the humans would flee as soon as they saw even a fraction of the Crescent Alliance Army's might.
*You fools! You're the greenhorns. If the human forces were truly cowards, the Crescent Alliance Army wouldn't have failed seven times over. These newcomers had no concept of how pathetic the demon army was or how terrifying the humans truly were.*
"……Hm."
Glancing over, I noticed that Zepar's expression was also uncomfortable. It was hard to pick up on, but his right eyebrow was raised slightly. I'd heard he'd participated in the Crescent Alliance Army from the fourth to the seventh campaigns. He would know all too painfully how the Demon Lord's army had been defeated by the human forces.
The attitude these rookie Demon Lords were showing was one of the very reasons the Demon Lord's army had lost in the past. He couldn't be happy about it… Since Barbatos had appointed him as commander of the vanguard, Zepar seemed like a fairly capable individual. Maybe he was worth looking forward to.
"By the way, Lord Dantalion, you have quite the unusual aide, don't you?"
Oh great, the arrowheads had turned toward me. One of the rookies was looking my way with a smug grin. It was Amy, the fifty-eighth-ranked Demon Lord. Every gaze in the room converged on me at once. The conversation had dried up, and it looked like they'd picked me as their next chew toy.
"A human as an aide? I've never heard of such a precedent."
"Well, isn't precedent something you create yourself? I trust in my aide's abilities."
"I'm curious what those abilities are. If beauty is the ability in question, then your aide certainly does seem extraordinary."
The rookies laughed, saying it was entertaining. They were teasing me, suggesting that perhaps I'd brought Laure along to satisfy my carnal desires, judging by her looks. Good grief — playing along with a bunch of morons was no easy task either. I decided to humor them a bit.
"Nothing of the sort. She's simply more useful in many ways than your aides, Lord Amy."
"…Did you just insult me?"
"Not at all. I hear that Lord Amy's aides have delegated all their paperwork to my aide. I'm grateful that they trust my aide so much, but I do worry — could it be that Lord Amy's aides simply aren't confident in handling paperwork?"
Amy's expression twisted. What I'd said was the truth. Whether it was a form of bullying or not, two or three of the Demon Lords' aides had been dumping their work onto Laure. Something along the lines of wanting to see whether a mere human could handle the Demon Lord's army's tasks properly.
Setting the intent aside, handing over your own unit's work to another unit of equal rank was a foolish move. What if I harbored impure intentions and decided to tamper with the ledgers? Commander Zepar seemed to share my thinking, as his brow furrowed.
"Amy. Is what was just pointed out true?"
"…I'm sorry, but I haven't heard about that. Lord Dantalion! I'd ask that you refrain from making baseless accusations in front of everyone."
Baseless accusations. I shrugged my shoulders.
"Lord Amy's unit has roughly twenty percent more in supplies compared to the others. Especially items like alcohol. The war hasn't even started yet — are we preparing for a festival? I can only envy your confidence."
"You brat!"
Amy shot to his feet. His face had flushed crimson.
"How dare a mere fiftieth-ranked Demon Lord insult me!"
No, I truly meant it when I said I was jealous. No matter how crazy my mind might get, I would never be able to drown myself in a barrel of liquor on the eve of battle. How wonderful it would be if I could live life with the same mindset as you. I wish you could pass on that kind of mental fortitude to me.
The Demon Lord of Fifty was my nickname. It was a title I'd earned for joining the Crescent Alliance Army with a mere fifty-man unit. In a cruel twist, fifty was half of a hundred, so "Demon Lord of Fifty" also carried connotations of being half-baked and half-assed. Lately, I'd been called half-baked more often than I'd been called Dantalion. Honestly, Demon Lords were the kind who just loved to stir up trouble.
When the atmosphere turned ugly, Zepar gave a quiet warning.
"Enough. What is this disgraceful behavior?"
They would be afraid to defy the dignity of the sixteenth-ranked. Amy couldn't hide his indignant expression and sat back down. Honestly, compared to Barbatos, he was almost cute. It seemed like there'd be no room for boredom until the war ended, thanks to that guy.
The last Demon Lord entered the tent. He tilted his head at the hostile atmosphere. His face practically asked what was going on. But Zepar didn't give small talk a chance to creep in and immediately started the meeting.
"Our Sixth Corps happens to be the first to march. Among them, we are the vanguard of the Sixth Corps — that is, the very front line of this Crescent Alliance Army. How we win or lose will shape how the historians write about the Eighth Crescent Alliance Army. I, Zepar, personally consider it a great honor to stand at the site of history alongside all of you."
Applause erupted in the tent. The phrase "site of history" seemed to excite several of the Demon Lords.
Zepar raised his right hand straight up. Naturally, the applause died down.
"Do you understand? Our mistakes won't just be the blunder of a single unit — they'll become the fault of the entire Sixth Corps, and beyond that, the fault of the whole Crescent Alliance Army. Right now, we represent the entirety of the Crescent Alliance Army! The vanguard of the Sixth Corps must move as one body. Solo actions will never be tolerated."
As expected. First came the carrot, and now the stick.
Even though Zepar was the commander, everyone gathered here was equally a Demon Lord and a sovereign. It wouldn't have been strange if they'd ignored his orders and charged off on their own. Just imagining an army with a non-functional chain of command was terrifying.
Zepar intended to use this opportunity to establish his authority. If he failed, the other Demon Lords would mock him endlessly — so obey my orders quietly, was the message. If the Demon Lords gathered here had any sense, they would show restraint going forward.
The problem was the fool who couldn't even understand words.
"Don't worry! Those human scum will collapse to the ground just from hearing an Ogre's breath! There's nothing to be afraid of!"
Amy shouted. Then two other Demon Lords echoed his sentiment, agreeing that humans were nothing to fear. In short, three out of the six Demon Lords attending the meeting were useless.
A full half of them were useless… My head was throbbing. Could I actually endure this war? Incompetent allies were scarier than capable enemies. I wanted to avoid becoming a living testament to that truth more than anything…