The Demon Continent.
Whenever I hear that word, my DQ-generation brain immediately conjures images of the Demon Realm.
A realm governed by the Demon King, home to small villages of monsters, forgotten shrines tucked away, and powerful monsters roaming freely.
That's the Demon Realm, at least in games.
But in this world, things are different.
First off, there's no Demon King ruling over anything.
It's not that Demon Kings don't exist.
Currently, there are roughly thirty of them, give or take.
And each one reigns however they see fit.
But they don't actually govern.
They merely call themselves Demon Kings and act important.
Each Demon King has some kind of military force — a personal guard, a knightly order, or whatever cool name they've slapped on it.
The soldiers protecting the town of Rikaris fell into that category.
Alongside adventurers, they patrolled the surrounding area, eliminating monsters and arresting criminals — independently safeguarding the town they called home.
They were less like an army and more like a vigilante militia.
I wasn't entirely clear on the relationship between these Demon Kings and their militia.
Whether the Demon Kings appointed them, or the militia simply decided to call themselves the Demon King's subordinates.
If a Demon King decided to wage war, they'd become the Demon King's army on the spot, so some sort of agreement must have been made.
For now, there was no war between them — a state of peace.
But that peace only existed in the immediate vicinity of each Demon King. The vast majority of the Demon Continent was lawless territory.
Sure, the areas around Xarxas Cross and the Sacred Cross Mausoleum were peaceful, but the roads between them were overrun with unaffiliated thugs.
Incidentally, the town of Rikaris fell under the dominion of a Demon King called 'Bardigardi.' A true Demon King in appearance — six arms, jet-black skin, muscles on top of muscles.
Though, word was he'd gone off wandering and was currently unaccounted for.
How wonderfully free.
--- The Demon Continent was home to powerful monsters.
At the adventurer guild, the lowest-tier subjugation request was C-rank.
In other words, the only enemies on this continent were C-rank or above.
Stone Trents barely qualified as D-rank, if that.
That said, the demon race was inherently stronger than humans.
On top of that, each species had unique traits, making them formidable in group combat.
There was a wall to break through when pushing from B-rank to A-rank, but that very difficulty meant B-rank adventurers on the Demon Continent were higher quality than their counterparts on other continents.
Those who couldn't climb higher ended up like Nokopara or Jaril.
Thinking about it that way,
He boasted that he could solo any A-rank monster.
That made him stronger than six or seven high-quality B-rank adventurers put together.
His epithet, 'Dead End,' was no empty boast.
I was genuinely glad to have earned the trust of someone like that.
--- Three days had passed since leaving Rikaris.
Maybe it was because I'd built a bond of trust with Ruijerd and felt at ease, but my appetite had started picking up lately.
That said, the ingredients were nothing to write home about.
Our staple food was the meat of the Great King Land Tortoise.
It wasn't tasty. It was awful.
So I decided to get a little creative.
Grilling wasn't the answer.
In that case, I'd change the cooking method.
A clay pot conjured with earth magic, delicious water from the
Using these three things, I decided to stew it.
Water was precious, but I could produce it infinitely.
Ideally, I would have liked to soften it in a pressure cooker, but after a test run nearly caused an explosion, I scrapped that idea.
It took time, but gas and water were both free.
All I had to do was simmer it slowly, with care and affection.
Cooking utensils made with earth magic were disposable, which made them convenient.
Maybe I'd try smoking next.
Stone Trent chips...
Didn't sound like they'd turn out very tasty.
Anyway, the Great King Land Tortoise meat was now passable.
The hard, flavorless meat had become soft, flavorless meat.
Yep. Still awful.
No matter how long I stewed it, that peculiar gamey smell lingered. Bad food was still bad food.
Funny thing was, it had tasted better back in the Migurd village.
What was I missing?
Then it hit me.
The plants they grew in the Migurd village.
At first glance, I'd thought they were withered crops.
But that wasn't it.
They were probably a type of herb — their wisdom for removing the gamey smell from meat and making it more delicious.
They were vegetables, but not something you ate as-is.
Honestly, my teacher was a real klutz.
When we reached the next town, I'd stock up on spices and seasonings.
I wanted to experiment with other ingredients too, if I could find any.
"But... wouldn't that be a waste of money?"
On the Demon Continent, food was expensive, period.
Probably because almost nothing grew here — vegetables especially cost a fortune.
A thin root that looked like a ginseng stalk could be bartered for five kilograms of meat.
Great King Land Tortoise, on the other hand, was cheap.
You could call it the staple food.
That massive turtle — over five tons — provided enough meat to feed a large household for days with just one kill.
Even so, it couldn't sustain every household in a town.
Sometimes they'd eat Pax Coyote, or the larvae of parasites found on Trents.
Even
Can't say I blamed her.
The food culture of this continent just wasn't for me.
Great King Land Tortoise meat was at least edible, depending on how you prepared it.
By the low standards of local cuisine, it was in the "not bad" category.
I could more or less accept Ruijerd's claim that grilling it alone made it delicious.
But spices were still a necessity.
The other two didn't seem to need them, but I did.
That meant I'd be buying them on my own judgment.
But going solo wasn't good.
We were a team, after all.
Setting aside the spice issue, I should get into the habit of consulting with the team about everything.
--- "Everyone, assemble!"
Eris was fussing over where to place the bundle of cloth she used as a pillow.
Ruijerd had his eyes closed, scanning the surroundings with his senses.
I called them over.
"I'd like to hold a meeting starting now."
"...A meeting?"
Eris tilted her head.
"Yes. Now that we're traveling together, I expect all sorts of problems will come up.
I want us to discuss and agree on the broad strokes ahead of time, so the three of us don't end up arguing when those problems arise."
"That sounds like..."
Eris made a skeptical expression.
Sure enough, she probably didn't like participating in those kinds of administrative details.
I could just discuss things with Ruijerd alone, but leaving her out would be a bad move.
She wasn't luggage.
So I had to include her in these discussions.
"That's, like, that thing you guys used to do once a month, right?"
Huh?
Once a month?
Oh — the staff meetings.
Now that she mentioned it, we did do those.
"That's right. The adventurer version of that."
Eris pursed her lips tight, then planted herself directly in front of me.
She was trying to look serious, but a grin kept creeping onto her face.
What was that about?
It wasn't even that interesting...
Well, better than her refusing.
"Should I participate too?" Ruijerd asked.
I wanted to retort: what kind of team meeting would it be without you?
"Of course.
Didn't you do anything like this back in the Warrior Band?"
"No. I made every decision myself."
Apparently, that was the norm for leaders. You listen to what the boss says.
But I was from a democratic country.
"Starting today, the three of us will discuss things together and decide things together."
"Understood."
Ruijerd nodded readily and sat down.
The three of us sat in a circle by the campfire.
Good.
"Now then, let's begin the first 'Dead End Strategy Meeting.' Applause."
Clap clap clap — all three of us applauded.
"
"That's just how it's done."
"You never did that with Ghislaine and the others."
How do you even know that?
Oh well.
"It's because this is our very first one."
We never did it in staff meetings, but hey.
We were adventurers now — might as well make it lively.
Ahem.
"So, last time, I made a spectacular failure of things."
"No, what you did wasn't exactly a failure—"
"Shut up! Ruijerd-san, when you want to speak, please raise your hand after I've finished talking."
I said it like an hysterical glasses-wearing know-it-all.
"Got it."
"Very good."
Seeing Ruijerd fall silent as though cowed, I continued.
"There are several things I think caused the failure."
Failing to gather enough information, focusing only on making money, trying to hit two birds with one stone, etc.
Well, those were things we all needed to watch out for going forward.
"As preventive measures, from now on I want us to keep three things close: reporting, communicating, and consulting."
These three things are called 'Horenso,' and they're incredibly important."
"Horenso... huh."
Horenso.
Incredibly important.
One can of that stuff could send a burly man flying to the stars.
"Yes. Horenso. Whenever we're about to do something, consult first!"
"Hmm. How exactly should we do that?"
"When you want to do something or run into trouble, ask about it each time."
In truth, I didn't really know what proper consultation looked like in a social context...
Well, let's not overthink it.
We'd just do what we could.
"I'll be asking the two of you as well.
When asked, please think it over. Should we do it, or should we not?
You might come up with a brilliant idea the other person hadn't considered."
Looking back, I'd made a lot of decisions without consulting Ruijerd.
I'd said I trusted him, but deep down, maybe I didn't.
"And then, communicating.
If you notice something or figure something out, speak up immediately.
Tell the other person nearby."
Eris was nodding slowly with a furrowed brow.
Did she actually understand?
"Finally, reporting.
The progress along the way is important, but even just letting me know whether something succeeded or failed is enough.
Report to me."
I was the leader, after all.
I needed to own that.
"Any questions so far?"
"None. Continue," Ruijerd said.
"Yes!" Eris raised her hand.
"Go ahead, Eris."
This felt familiar. Like being back in class.
"Like we used to, are we not going to check prices at shops?"
"Market research?"
Hmm.
Now that she mentioned it, I'd been slacking on that in Rikaris.
In that town, we'd been winging it entirely.
If I'd known the market rate for those transport lizards, I might've gotten one cheaper.
"Let's make that a habit.
Knowing prices is the first step to using money wisely.
Anything else?"
"............"
Nothing.
Well, that was good enough for now.
As we progressed, more issues would come up.
When they did, we'd just talk them through calmly without fighting.
"Then, starting tomorrow, I look forward to working with you both."
With that, I bowed to the two of them.
--- And so, our journey began.
--- Town.
Ruijerd was not recognized as a Spell族 this time.
Probably because he'd shaved even his eyebrows.
On the Demon Continent, there wasn't much of a culture of carefully grooming your hair.
Each race valued their own appearance.
The gate guard welcomed us without fuss.
Ruijerd's look was less "bald" and more "yakuza" or "right-wing ultranationalist"— but the town was full of folks with far more menacing faces, so he blended right in.
"Welcome to my town!"
Adventurer-style gear really did make a difference.
We were warmly received. Last time, we'd been dressed far too aristocratic.
No wonder we'd drawn suspicion.
Ruijerd said cheerfully that he'd never been welcomed this warmly before.
When we told the guild our party name was 'Dead End,' we got skeptical looks from all around: "Are you for real?"
When we assured them it was the genuine article, most people just laughed.
This approach really was effective — as always.
Even in an unfamiliar place, it was easy to get accepted.
The name value of 'Dead End' was nothing to scoff at.
Once we'd settled into an inn, it was strategy meeting time.
This time, the agenda came from Eris.
"Rudeus was smelling my underwear while I was doing laundry. I want him to stop."
She said it with a perfectly straight face.
I was formally prohibited from touching Eris's underwear.
But that meant only Ruijerd could do the laundry.
There was no way I could hand cute Eris's underwear to this lolicon who couldn't resist patting a child's head.
So instead, I taught Eris how to do laundry.
Starting today, laundry was Eris's responsibility.
But wouldn't you know it — she'd been secretly sniffing my underwear.
Still, I'd never dream of asking her to stop.
That's what you call magnanimity as a man.
Nailed it.
Gathering intelligence wasn't difficult.
The adventurer guild had answers for most things.
I just had to pretend to be a child and ask other adventurers.
It was incredibly easy.
So easy, I almost wished I could stay a kid forever — they told me everything.
Feeling bold, I tried to ask a glamorous female adventurer for her measurements, and Eris shut me down hard.
This world had no concept of "tipping."
I nearly died.
--- From town to town, we made our way ever southward.
--- From one day onward, Eris began learning the Demon God language.
Roxy's textbooks were gone, so I couldn't teach her the details, but with two teachers — me and Ruijerd — she picked it up quickly.
Back in the
Environment really does change a person.
Being the only one who couldn't understand conversations had to be stressful, too.
"I—I am... Eris Boreas Greyrat... pleased to meet you..."
"Very good, milady!"
'Really!?' Well, she was still a long way from actual conversation...
Yamamoto Isoroku said it best: "You must show them, tell them, let them try, and praise them, or people will not move.
Discuss, listen, approve, and trust them, or people will not grow.
Watch them working with gratitude, and trust them, or people will not bear fruit."
So I praised her into growing.
"As expected of milady! How splendid! I'm trembling!"
'...Are you making fun of me?' 'No, no, no, absolutely not.' Got a little carried away there...
Praise wasn't a cure-all. Noted.
'Hey, but we're leaving the Demon Continent soon, aren't we?' 'That's the plan. Next is the Millis Continent.' Soon was relative — there was still a long road ahead.
'So... even if I learn the Demon God language, isn't it kind of pointless?' 'We might come back someday.' Though she'd been motivated by necessity, Eris was still Eris — not a fan of studying.
She was learning the Demon God language from me and combat techniques from Ruijerd.
At first, I'd joined in on the combat training too.
But honestly, I couldn't keep up.
Ruijerd's teaching method was nothing but silent, relentless sparring.
By the end, the student was always flat on the ground or with a spear at their throat.
Then Ruijerd would ask: "Did you get it?"
I never got it. No matter how many times we sparred.
But Eris seemed to understand.
Every so often, she'd have an epiphany on her face and say, "I understand now."
What exactly did she understand?
Well... I sort of got it.
Ruijerd was probably probing our weaknesses through combat.
Combat was fluid, with many things that could be manipulated.
That was exactly why he used sparring instead of verbal instruction.
But that didn't make it any easier to comprehend.
If I could understand it, I would've been far stronger by now.
Eris was probably a genius.
When it came to fighting, she was beyond my reach.
Honestly, Ruijerd's combat philosophy was completely over my head.
But Eris got it.
Her "I understand now" wasn't lip service.
She truly grasped something.
And in fact, Eris was getting stronger.
Her combat ability had improved dramatically.
She still probably wasn't Ghislaine's equal, but she might have been close to surpassing
...She might have already been stronger than me, even with my magic.
I needed to step up my game too.
If Eris kept growing while I stagnated, I'd have no standing.
I wanted to get stronger.
Thinking that, I secretly challenged Ruijerd for real.
"For real" meaning the close-combat style I'd developed with Paul as my benchmark...
The result? I lost. A total rout.
None of my close-combat magic worked on Ruijerd at all.
"Not bad. As a mage, you've reached a finished form."
Even though I'd lost, he said that.
I felt like Ghislaine had told me something similar once.
"But your thinking is flawed.
There's no need for you to try to beat me in close combat."
I was "too close," he said.
I was stepping into my opponent's arena, which was why I struggled.
I knew that.
But it wasn't always possible to start every fight from long range.
"So what should I do?"
"Hard to say. Magic isn't my specialty, either...
When it comes to close combat blended with magic, the Dragon Race supposedly excels, but I've only seen Pergius fight a little. Not much to draw on."
"Pergius — the guy from that floating fortress? What was his fighting style like?"
"Ah, he summoned the Front Dragon Gate and the Rear Dragon Gate, then fought with magical claws."
Summoning...
I didn't know anything about summoning magic...
"The Front Dragon Gate and Rear Dragon Gate — what kind of summoning magic were those?"
"I don't know the details, but the Front Dragon Gate constantly absorbed the opponent's mana, and the Rear Dragon Gate converted the absorbed mana into his own."
Thus, the longer a fight with Pergius went, the more disadvantaged his opponent became.
Laplace supposedly had such an overwhelming mana pool that it barely mattered, but...
An ordinary warrior would be drained of all their mana and collapse within minutes.
"That's a dirty fighting style," I said.
"...Is it?"
I'd expected Ruijerd to call it underhanded, but apparently not.
Maybe it was the camaraderie of having scored a hit against his nemesis Laplace.
"Don't rush. At your age, this is where you truly begin to get strong."
In the end, Ruijerd patted my head and said that.
He seemed to acknowledge me as a warrior, but Ruijerd still patted my head.
He just loved patting kids' heads. That was the man for you.
But still — how was I supposed to get stronger?
--- South, south, ever southward.
Arriving in town, taking requests, selling our names, saving money, moving on to the next town.
We repeated the same routine, heading ever south.
--- Along the way, someone challenged Ruijerd to a duel.
"I am the Third Disciple of 'Peacock Sword' Aubel direct disciple of the North God Karlmann!"
For a moment, I thought it was a bounty hunter.
I wondered if a bounty had been placed on Ruijerd without my knowing.
"I can tell by your bearing that you must be a man of great renown! I humbly request a match!"
But no — it seemed he was a wandering martial artist, traveling the Demon Continent to hone his skills.
"Ruijerd-san, what do you want to do?"
"It's been a while since I've had one of these."
According to Ruijerd, the Demon Continent attracted a lot of martial pilgrims.
The monsters were strong, and the adventurers who hunted them were strong too.
It was a perfect training ground for anyone looking to test themselves.
What good was getting stronger for its own sake, though?
"I'm willing to accept. What are the rules?"
"I think we could decline, but what do you want to do?"
"I'm a warrior. If someone wants a match, I'll oblige."
If you wanted to fight, you should've just said so from the start.
And so, we decided on rules.
1. No killing, and no thrusting attacks that could land. 2. We would only introduce ourselves after the match was over. 3. Whether we won or lost, we'd leave no grudges behind.
The opponent agreed happily.
And Ruijerd won.
He won with movements that fully weathered everything his opponent threw at him.
It wasn't that he was going easy.
He simply played low-risk, completely controlling his opponent's movements.
"A total defeat. I never knew someone this strong existed... the world is still so vast! Now then, what is your name?"
"Ruijerd Spelledia. They call me 'Dead End.'"
"What — that 'Dead End'!? I've heard the rumors all across the Demon Continent! They say there's a terrifying Spell man!"
When the fight was over, he was astonished.
Humans, surprisingly, didn't know much about the characteristics of the Spell race.
That they used spears.
That they had a red gemstone on their forehead.
Many people didn't know these things.
By human standards, the defining trait of the Spell race was nothing more than emerald-green hair.
Emerald-green hair.
Four hundred years after the war, that alone was the reason for their persecution.
Being bullied just for having green hair — I could never understand that.
"But... you don't seem to have hair?"
"I shaved it. For personal reasons."
"M-maybe I shouldn't ask why..."
A visibly powerful opponent, the embodiment of terror — the Spell race, and among them, the most fearsome figure.
No wonder people were afraid.
But as warriors, they found common ground.
For people who lived by strength, Ruijerd was someone worthy of respect.
"I never imagined I'd get to spar with a legendary figure from history...!
This is something I can brag about back home!"
Most of the opponents walked away looking thrilled.
It was like running into a Hollywood star on the street, and finding out that the star everyone thought was aloof was actually surprisingly friendly.
That was the kind of joy they had.
"I am the ——"
Starting with that guy, Ruijerd was challenged again and again.
The further south we went, the more duels we attracted.
Some martial pilgrims were well-educated and pointed out that Ruijerd shared a name with the Spell race warrior who had led the Spell race's warrior band during the war four hundred years ago.
When we confirmed he was the same person, they were stunned.
For those individuals, Ruijerd's war stories ended up being recounted over an entire day and night.
Grandpa Ruijerd's tales were long, but the unexaggerated accounts of his exploits were genuinely thrilling for warriors.
The part about breaking through a thousand-man siege, infiltrating enemy lines over a long period, and striking back against Laplace brought even hardened fighters to tears.
If we published these stories in a book, maybe people's perceptions of the Spell race would change.
'Truth! A War Without Justice: The Demon Continent Chronicles!' Or 'The Unknown History of the Spell Race.' Something like that.
I could handle the printing with earth magic.
Plus, I could write in four continental languages.
Well, there was a chance I'd get arrested for violating national laws...
But I'd file that idea away for later.
"Well then, thanks! Learned a lot!"
The martial pilgrims all departed cheerfully.
Not a single one ended in a quarrel.
That was probably all thanks to the shaved heads.
Maybe the Spell race should just go fully bald from now on?
--- And so, south, south.
We journeyed on.
--- Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.
Problems cropped up constantly.
Eris got into fights when she understood insults directed at her and flew into a rage.
We got expelled from towns when Ruijerd was recognized as Spell.
And more often than not, I'd try to peek at Eris's bath, only to be grabbed by the scruff of my neck by Ruijerd and hauled back.
Similar problems arose over and over.
At first, I'd fret every time something happened.
I need to fix this — I have to do something — I'd think.
But looking back...
Eris never drew her sword during an argument.
Ruijerd, when we were expelled, never caused the kind of upheaval he had that first time.
Sometimes a guard we'd befriended in town would apologize sheepishly: "Sorry, it's just — when people hear 'Spell,' some of them really do get scared."
And in the end, I never once successfully peeked at Eris's bath.
All minor issues.
None of them ever escalated into anything serious.
Maybe that was why I gradually stopped worrying.
Eris was a brawler, Ruijerd was Spell, and I was a pervert.
We'd been that way since birth.
Trying to change it now wasn't going to work.
Well, I did what I could.
If I messed up, I'd fix it afterward.
Let's keep it relaxed. Stay easy.
That was the mindset I gradually adopted along the way.
It wasn't that I was taking my mistakes lightly.
I'd simply learned to do something basic — relax my shoulders and let go of unnecessary tension.
--- About one year after setting out on our journey, we had, without quite realizing it, become A-rank adventurers.
And at the southernmost tip of the Demon Continent, we arrived at the port town of Wenport.
End of Chapter 3 — Boyhood Arc: Adventurer Prologue Next Chapter Chapter 4 — Boyhood Arc: Voyage