The day had worn to a close. We camped out in the nearby ruins.
A campfire crackled to life. Its light faintly illuminated the old fortress grounds. Shadows swayed quietly along the rough, weathered stone walls — like actors left alone on the stage of a long-finished play, rehearsing scripts that would never be performed again.
"Our client... Lord Paimon has taken quite an interest in His Grace Dantalion."
One of those shadows opened its mouth to speak.
"For quite some time now."
"How long exactly?"
"A little over a year."
A year. Around the time of Walpurgis Night, when the hearing was held. From that point on, Paimon, the head of the Mountain Faction, had been watching my every move...
"We've gathered every scrap of information on His Grace Dantalion. That you abducted a human from the slave market, that you killed the heir of a merchant lord... Do you, by any chance, dislike tobacco?"
I shook my head. It meant I didn't mind.
"My apologies, then."
The sky-haired woman pulled out a long-stemmed pipe. As she stuffed tobacco leaves into the bowl, she spoke.
"Honestly, it was a surprise. We're a fairly well-known outfit even in the Demon Realm. And this wasn't a month-long engagement — it was a long-term contract. The job was to dig up dirt on a Demon Lord ranked all the way down at seventy-first... Business had been slow, so we weren't complaining, of course."
The woman smiled brightly.
To me, the woman's smile felt utterly hollow. I could read the emotions of Demonkin. She was feeling nothing at all. Half of this woman's face had been ravaged by severe burns — and even the remaining half was nothing more than a mask.
"You must have been disappointed. Boring work."
"Yes, indeed. Until about six months ago."
The woman exhaled a puff of smoke.
"About six months ago, the Kunkuska Trading Company started poking its nose into our 'industry.' So cautious and cunning about it, too. If we hadn't been investigating Lord Dantalion this whole time, we never would have noticed. Before long, we had no choice but to admit that our client — Lord Paimon — had a keen eye."
The woman looked at me, a trace of amusement still lingering on her face.
"For a good five months, Lord Dantalion was without question the center of the world."
"......"
"How many people in all the world do you suppose knew? Spreading different rumors through the Demon Realm and the Human Realm, then using that to cleverly manipulate the human armies into mobilizing."
She seemed slightly agitated.
"Twisting the human army's deployment yet again, this time to set the Crescent Alliance Army in motion. How many people could possibly know that a mere Rank 71 Demon Lord stood behind all of it? I'll make a bold claim. Not even ten. Between the Human Realm and the Demon Realm — across every world in existence — not even ten. And we had the honor of being among those ten."
The woman laughed.
"Truly. If there's ever a moment when being born an assassin makes life feel worthwhile, it's exactly this kind of moment. I am genuinely grateful to Lord Paimon. Even if I live for several hundred more years, I'll never again spend days as thrilling as this past half year...... Lord Dantalion, did you know? I'm terribly excited that I can finally have a conversation with you."
I pulled out a water flask and took a sip.
"For all that excitement, I don't sense much emotion from you."
"I've done nothing but kill my emotions since the day I was born."
The woman laughed again. She was the kind who laughed easily.
"A man who lives in the desert and a man who lives by a lake — the value of water differs enormously between the two."
"So even the tiniest bit of emotion feels enormous to you. That's what you mean?"
"I apologize."
Indeed. To ambush a Demon Lord, one would need to be as devoid of emotion as she was.
I became suddenly curious. How did they train assassins like this? When I casually asked, she puffed on her cigarette and answered. It was like slowly unwinding a skein of yarn.
"First, to oppose a Demon Lord, you need to become a slave. Once both soul and body are subjugated to a single person, even a Demonkin can stand against a Demon Lord."
"But doesn't that mean you lose your freedom?"
"Well. When I was young, a lump of bread was more urgent than freedom."
I could more or less guess the woman's situation.
Whether in the Human Realm or the Demon Realm, the starving were everywhere. Among them, many orphans were on the verge of death from lack of a single meal. The assassin organization's leader—or perhaps the assassin guild—would have gathered such orphans. The orphans agreed to a slave contract. No—they recruited only orphans who had no choice but to agree……
"Can't the Slave Brand be destroyed?"
"Ah, that's a bit difficult. It's engraved on the heart. They make sure to do it that way during the surgery."
"On the heart?"
Come to think of it, the Death Knight had also mentioned something about the heart.
"How do they engrave a magic brand on the heart?"
"When they're young. It's a kind of initiation ritual. They create a healing magic circle, lay the person on it, and split open the chest. They keep the flesh cut open while pouring in potions, and then work on the heart…… well, all sorts of things."
"Hmm."
I made a face of distaste. So they were essentially keeping a living corpse alive with healing magic and potions while they poked around inside the heart. The word "surgery" was generous—it was torture. The woman nodded as though she understood exactly how I felt.
"Quite the cruel era."
"Truly."
She smiled faintly.
A brief silence fell. It wasn't an awkward silence. "Cruel era"—it took a moment to chew on the weight those words carried.
"Paimon's will changed not long ago. Right after the Crescent Alliance Army and the Human forces clashed on the Bruno Plains, Paimon suddenly altered the commission. The new order was to provide thorough protection for Dantalion."
"Why?"
"The client wanted to earn Dantalion's favor."
Favor.
It had been the same back during the Crescent Alliance Army affair. When Paimon was in a desperate situation during the war of words, she had helped me. In exchange, she lost power she had accumulated over thousands of years.
By any common-sense measure, that made no sense. Which meant Paimon was determined to help me no matter the cost. But why?
"Your client referred to herself as a republican."
"What?"
"She said that if I put it that way, you'd understand."
A republican—Paimon?
It felt like a hammer had smashed my brain. I'd heard a word I never could have imagined. A simple pervert. That was who Paimon was, wasn't it?
In *Dungeon Attack*, Paimon falls for the protagonist, the Hero. That's why she clings to him relentlessly. Her methods of courtship are… unique—she keeps sending monster legions at the Hero's party.
Even when the scenario calls for the Demon Lord's army and the human army to wage mutual genocide, Paimon alone refuses to massacre humans. Killing humans would rob her of her entertainment. That was the reason. There was no way to see her as anything but a pervert. But… a republican? How was that even possible? She wasn't simply a humanophile—she wasn't that kind of character, was she?
"…I can't make sense of it."
"Your client also said this: she wanted to know. Why do some rule, and others be ruled? Where did everything go wrong… she said she wanted to know the answer."
Inequality. Absurdity. Irrationality.
An age where the rulers and the ruled were predetermined from the moment of birth. She considered that strange. She believed something was fundamentally wrong with it. It wasn't something natural or inevitable—there was some hidden cause behind it all, and she wanted to uncover that cause.
Without a doubt—that was the quiet embryo of revolution.
I asked.
"Don't tell me… republicanism is a familiar ideology among Demonkin?"
"No. They know nothing of the sort."
The woman smiled.
"Even I had never once heard of it before receiving this commission from Lord Paimon. I did know that a nation called the Batavia Republic existed in the Human Realm, of course. But I only began looking into it because of Lord Paimon's request."
"…What do you think of republicans?"
"They look like perfect candidates to catch and kill."
Yeah, that figures.
"But I do find it fascinating."
"……."
"Anyone would be willing to sacrifice their life for it."
The woman's eyes turned toward me. Her lips wore a smile, but her gaze was indifferent.
"Are you aware that Your Grace Dantalion's speech at the Bruno Plains is circulating everywhere?"
"No."
I had no idea.
"It's still being passed around cautiously in only parts of the Human Realm and the Demon Realm. But the response has been enthusiastic. The speech will spread to hundreds of cities and thousands of villages in no time, Your Grace Dantalion. I must inform you that I am no exception to that."
The woman lowered her pipe. She looked me straight in the eye.
"You spoke only of inequality in the Human Realm. But, Your Grace. Since I was young — ever since those days when I couldn't earn a single slice of bread, a single thread of mana — I've been curious. Ever since I had to tear open my chest and bare my heart just to survive, I've been curious. ……Why was I born into poverty?"
"……."
"If I had been lazy, I could understand. If I had done something wrong, yes — I did something wrong, so I'm living a hard life. I'm paying the price. I could understand it that way. But I was poor from the moment I was born. What did I do wrong? Was the act of being born itself wrong?"
But if that's the case, the woman said.
"Why do some people live so beautifully?"
"……."
"For some, life is a blessing from the very start. For others, life is a curse from the very start. I truly couldn't fathom it. Why was I among the latter? Is there such a thing as a past life? Did I commit some sin before I was even born, and that's why I live like this?"
For the first time, something resembling genuine emotion emanated from the woman.
It was a hatred as thick and sticky as mucus.
"I believed that was a lie. I don't know why it's a lie. But it is a lie. There's no way that could be the truth. It must not be the truth. ……Even if the world were to accept such a thing, I alone will never acknowledge it. I did nothing wrong. The one at fault is the world."
"……."
"Lord Paimon told me that His Highness wished to verify whether he and His Highness were of the same kind. I, too, carry the same wish as my employer, Your Highness Dantalion. Did Your Highness truly cry out for freedom on the Brunon Plains? We... born as low-ranking demonkin, condemned to live as the world's refuse... do we have the right to hail Your Highness as our true king?"
The woman spoke thus.
If I said yes here, I could probably arrange a meeting with Paimon through her.
If I said no, they would simply withdraw.
I fell silent. Lost in thought. What the woman's life had been like — it brought me no small amount of sorrow. A Demon Lord could read the emotions of demonkin. How deeply she hated her life, how consumed she was by grief — I felt it all firsthand.
But I could not move on emotion alone.
The benefits of drawing in low-ranking demonkin. The costs. The gains and losses that would arise if I, a member of the Plains Faction, were to share secret counsel with Paimon of the Mountain Faction. I had to weigh all of it.
I opened my mouth.
"Well, I wouldn't know."
The woman blinked.
"Pardon?"
"Why should I tell you that? Do I owe you an account of my thoughts? Fine. Let's say I think the same way you do. Let's say you pledge your loyalty to me. That still doesn't make you the representative of every low-ranking demonkin in the Demon Realm, does it?"
The woman faltered.
"But..."
"Are you suffering? Has life been hard? And so you believe you speak for all low-ranking demonkin in the Demon Realm — that you can represent their misery?"
I smiled.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. You cannot stand in for anyone else. Even if you are the most wretched person in the world, that doesn't make your wretchedness a credential that entitles you to represent others. Assassin — deal with your own suffering."
I rose from my seat.
"If the Grand Duke of Hell stands in your way, kill the Grand Duke. If a Demon Lord stands in your way, kill the Demon Lord. If an entire nation stands in your way, kill the nation. If the continent itself stands in your way, kill the continent."
If they could ally with me in the process, so be it. If they had to part ways, then part ways they would. There were no eternal allies. There was no eternal loyalty. Asking me to be a righteous king for all eternity — on my end, that was nothing but a nuisance.
I simply make whichever choice suits me at the moment.
"Tell Paimon. If he wants to sit down and have a conversation with me, he should bring a bargaining chip, not his feelings."
"Lord Dantalion."
"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."
I stepped into the carriage. I heard the woman calling after me from behind, but I ignored her. Not just because I was truly exhausted, either.
Just looking at today alone, I had locked horns with Grand Duke Doksa, been ambushed, and on top of that received the shocking news that Paimon was a republican. It would have been strange if I weren't tired. My brain needed a rest.
Inside the carriage, Lapis had already drifted off to sleep, breathing softly. I spread a blanket roughly across the floor and lay down.
*Paimon is a republican... So, what does that change? What exactly...*
Anyway, I had been too honest with the woman. Would it have been better to mix in a bit more rhetoric? Would that have been the wiser play? But I didn't want to. I supposed I had a weakness for people who were that straightforward. What an annoying personality trait...
I was so tired that I fell asleep almost immediately.