This time, I'm moving alongside Paimon's Liberation Alliance.
The Liberation Alliance was already preparing a large-scale peasant uprising. I didn't know exactly how large, but judging by how confidently they called it "large-scale," it would be enough to shake the very foundations of the nation. Members of the Liberation Alliance were slated to serve as commanders to lead the peasant revolt.
I would be operating alongside these commanders, providing appropriate supporting fire from the sidelines… Well, why mince words? To put it bluntly, the Liberation Alliance wanted me to do the inciting.
No matter how badly the Black Death and famine had left the world in turmoil, there weren't all that many peasants willing to pick up spears and scythes to duke it out with the aristocrats. Above all, the nobles had knights. Knights who could wield Aura were a source of terror for the common folk.
To overcome that fear, you needed madness. Speeches were an extraordinarily effective tool for planting that madness… And frankly, there was no one better suited for the task than me, who had already distinguished myself in the oratory campaigns of the Eighth Crescent Alliance Army.
You could say my goals and Paimon's were aligned. On their end, they wanted the kingdoms of the Human Realm to crumble, and I, for my part, wanted the Human Realm thrown into chaos one way or another. My schedule was simple: recruit talented individuals within the Frank Empire to serve as my vassals, and occasionally whip the populace into a frenzy with a rousing speech.
I arrived in the Frank Empire using a teleportation spellbook.
A brilliant white light wrapped around me, then faded after a brief moment.
When I opened my eyes, a crowd had already gathered in a wide clearing. Among them stood a short, stocky dwarf. The dwarf spotted me, walked over slowly, and bowed respectfully.
"Green-Bearded Jacques Bonhomme greets the esteemed Lord Dantalion."
The dwarf Jacques Bonhomme and I had technically met once before. On the day I stayed overnight at a ruined castle and was introduced to the Liberation Alliance by Paimon, Jacques Bonhomme had been present. But we hadn't spent nearly enough time together to size each other up. This was effectively our first real meeting.
They say you can tell what kind of person someone is from their first impression. Is that really true?
To answer first: yes. To some extent, you can.
Observe Jacques Bonhomme. The moment he saw me, he didn't immediately offer a greeting. Instead, he dipped his head, slowed his pace, and held back deliberately. He was checking whether anyone else had teleported in behind me. Cautious by nature.
Besides, his clothes were worn. The men standing behind Jacques Bonhomme were obviously mercenaries at a glance. They carried swords at their hips and dressed flamboyantly in blues, yellows, purples, and the like. Some even wore exaggeratedly long goatees — every last one of them putting on whatever flashy affectations they could muster. Yet the leader who commanded them, Jacques Bonhomme himself, dressed in perfectly ordinary, frayed clothes?
That spoke of absolute confidence.
The less confident a leader, the more extravagantly they dressed. Wearing worn clothes was practically a privilege reserved for the most powerful of leaders. In this mercenary company, Jacques Bonhomme must have wielded truly tremendous charisma.
And yet this man had greeted me with the utmost courtesy. Right in front of his fiercely loyal subordinates. In other words, he had no intention of dismissing me as a mere outsider. Quite the opposite — he was setting an example himself, ensuring his men would treat me with respect as well.
In summary.
Jacques Bonhomme was a prudent man who ruled his group with an iron grip, never indulged in pointless extravagance, and treated me — someone who would be journeying with him for a long time to come — with genuine courtesy.
Now that's what I call a man who gets it!
I made sure to flash a broad smile.
"It's been too long, Comrade Jacques Bonhomme. I trust you've been well?"
I gave his shoulder a light pat.
"Your build is still incredible. Time itself wouldn't dare lay a hand on your body. I'm already feeling reassured about how safe the road ahead will be with you leading the way. I'm counting on you, Captain Jacques Bonhomme!"
Jacques Bonhomme had shown me every measure of respect. So what was my job in return?
Simple — to uphold the proper chain of command.
I'll say it again: I'm nothing more than an outsider. A Demon Lord, sure, but as far as the Liberation Alliance was concerned, I was the lowest of the low. I didn't know how the organization operated, and I didn't know how to accomplish the objective of this journey. I was practically a child. Yet this man was treating me with courtesy for no other reason than the fact that I was the Demon Lord.
If I tried to act like his superior at this point, it would be all over. Jacques Bonhomme would have to bow and scrape while silently cursing me as an insufferable burden, and his subordinates would grow resentful of that dynamic, turning hostile toward me. Destroying a group was far easier than most people imagined.
Perhaps my behavior had caught him off guard. The dwarf's eyebrows rose ever so slightly.
He quickly broke into a faint smile. Despite being a dwarf, there was nothing coarse about it. A hint of warmth reached me through the expression. I nodded. We were going to get along just fine.
"I am honored. I will be escorting Your Lordship for the next two months or so. Winter hasn't quite released its grip, so the cold still bites, but I will do everything in my power to ensure as comfortable a journey as possible. Hey! What are you lot standing around for?"
Jacques Bonhomme barked at the soldiers clustered behind him.
The mercenaries thundered a crisp "Yes, sir!" and formed ranks in front of me. Every last one of them wore plate armor across the chest. They were clearly elite soldiers. In the Frank Empire at least, they must have been known as a first-rate mercenary company.
"The Two-Axed Axe Mercenary Company!"
Jacques Bonhomme clasped his hands behind his back and let out a booming shout. I nearly jumped out of my skin — the same voice that had been speaking in a measured murmur moments ago had suddenly swelled to shake the entire hillside.
The mercenaries sprang to their feet in a single line and thrust their axe-spears forward in a crisp salute. There were roughly thirty of them. The axe-spears caught the late-winter sunlight, glinting coldly.
"Salute to His Lordship Dantalion!"
Thirty mercenaries dropped to one knee in unison. It was a magnificent sight. In this era, apart from knights, it was extremely rare to find a military unit with this level of discipline and cohesion. I applauded.
"Impressive! I am the seventy-first-ranked Demon Lord, Dantalion. From now on, if there's anything I can do to help on our journey, I'm prepared to handle it. Let's work well together."
"I am deeply honored. Please call me Jacque."
Last came Jacques Bonhomme — no, Jacque — who bent at a ninety-degree angle at the waist. Ha ha. I had a good feeling this journey would be quite comfortable in many ways.
"Hm?"
But there were still people lingering behind the mercenaries. They wore gray robes pulled over their heads. They stood quietly, looking this way, yet unlike the mercenaries, almost no emotion drifted over from them.
"Who are they? Workers?"
"Well, that's..."
For the first time, Jacque looked troubled. Huh? That was unexpected. What was going on?
Just as I was about to hear his explanation, one person stepped forward from the gray-robed group. The figure dropped to their knees right in front of me.
"I greet Your Excellency once more. Lord Dantalion."
"Once more?"
I furrowed my brow. Come to think of it, the voice did sound familiar somehow. I was digging through my memories trying to place it when the other person slowly pulled back the hood. Sky-blue hair spilled out from beneath the robe.
"Ah, you are..."
"This time as well, the client has ordered me to serve as Your Excellency's bodyguard."
The woman smiled. Half her face was scarred by severe burns.
She was the assassin who had answered Paimon's orders and saved Lapis and me when we were ambushed in the Demon Realm last time — the same woman who knelt before me now. The one who had asked if she could truly serve me as her king, only to be scolded and sent away.
"It's been a while. But..."
I glanced over at Jacque.
A mercenary unit and an assassin squad. Two groups traveling together — I hadn't heard about this in advance. What was the exact hierarchy? Were the mercenaries superior, or the assassin squad? Whose orders did who follow? Depending on the answer, I would need to adjust how I dealt with them.
Jacque scowled.
"I am the branch leader of the Liberation Alliance's Frank Empire branch. This man leads a unit personally hired by Lord Paimon."
"......"
I nearly let out an audible "urk." In short, the command structure was completely unorganized. That was absolutely not good news. If something went wrong, who would seize command and lead all these people?
I shot Jack a look of reproach. This was something the person in charge on-site should have handled before I even arrived. It was hard to believe that Jack, a seasoned mercenary captain, would have overlooked such a critical issue. What exactly was the problem?
Jack Bonhomme caught the meaning of my glance and looked apologetic.
"This expedition is, at its core, under the Liberation Alliance. So I was hoping to receive authorization for command, but..."
"Our client told us to follow Lord Dantalion's orders."
The woman interjected.
"Since we accepted the commission, our command authority naturally belongs to Lord Dantalion. We never had any intention of listening to a dwarf's orders in the first place."
"......And we have no intention of listening to orders from some frail little wench either."
Jack scowled at the woman. How to put it. He looked like he wanted to unleash a torrent of profanities right then and there, but was barely holding back because I was present. Perhaps Jack, for all appearances, actually had quite the violent temperament underneath.
The woman smiled brightly.
"I don't know if it's a double-bladed axe or a rusted one, but either way, you've probably only ever played around in the Human Realm at best. We're an assassination squad that literally rose from hell itself. Want to find out what happens when a frail little wench's dagger nicks your neck?"
"Hm. If an axe blade buries itself in your skull, maybe that stupid brain of yours might actually start working for once."
Before long, the leaders of both groups launched into an all-out war of words. Looking more closely, Jack was a dwarf and the woman was an elf. It was well known that dwarves and elves were mortal enemies, regardless of rank or status.
They were already fighting over command authority, and to top it off, ancient racial grudges were thrown into the mix. It was truly the worst-case scenario... A sigh escaped my lips.
"Haa."
No matter whose side I took, someone would remain dissatisfied. Even small grievances could ultimately fracture the entire group. My prediction that this expedition would be easy had long since flown beyond the horizon.
"Can't be helped. Jack."
"Yes, Your Lordship."
Jacques immediately dropped the argument and bowed to me. In truth, there was only one solution.
"I had intended to trust in your experience and track record, and hand everything over to you. But unfortunately, I can't afford to do that."
"I humbly apologize."
"Effective immediately, I will assume command of the Two-Edged Axe Mercenary Company."
Jacques knelt down.
"I accept your command, Your Lordship."
That was right. The only way to bind together groups that each went their own way was to surrender all command authority to a figure they all commonly acknowledged.
Jacques had probably anticipated this outcome. That was why he'd been so deferential to me from the very start. Tch, and here I was celebrating that I'd finally met a decent person for once.
I turned to the female assassin.
"Your name?"
"Please call me Jeremy, Lord Dantalion. The assassin squad I lead is called the Red Scar Assassins."
The woman gave a bright smile. But as always, her emotions were completely detached from her facial expression.
"Good. Jeremy, effective immediately, I hold command of the Red Scar Assassins."
"I obey. Whatever you desire, Master."
The woman with light blue hair and burn scars covering half her face—Jeremy—bowed her head. At the same time, the assassins standing behind her also knelt. Thus, under my command, thirty mercenaries and twenty assassins joined—roughly fifty combatants in total.
In short, I now needed to familiarize myself with both mercenary operations and assassin work... What was this? I was supposed to be nothing more than an outsider. And now, far from being an outsider, I'd become the head of the entire group. Damn it.
"Sigh."
No matter what I did, things never went smoothly. My head was already starting to ache. The world had it out for me...