Volume 3 of Dungeon Defense has been published. Thank you.
The winner of the Masturbation Tournament was none other than the mercenary captain, Zakri. He ejaculated a mere fifteen seconds after the competition began. No one could withstand this feat. He was bestowed the title of "The Fastest Stud in the World." Gloriously so.
The next day, the sub-baron's expression remained grave until we departed the village. Once the lord fell silent, the villagers took it upon themselves to liven the atmosphere. They came all the way to the village entrance to give us a grand send-off.
Three days since we began sleeping rough on the Imperial Road.
"Your Highness. He is not ordinary."
Zakri said, his face flushed with excitement.
"Who?"
"The boy you entrusted to me, Your Highness. I swear to the Goddess, I have never seen such talent in all my life. Teach him one thing and he grasps ten; teach him ten and he masters a hundred. That boy was born to be a warrior, without a doubt!"
For someone who was usually so solemn in everything, Zakri was being quite theatrical.
I let a subtle smile rest on my lips.
"Hmm. Is he really that exceptional?"
"Yes. Calling him a genius doesn't even begin to cover it. It's as if a mercenary who had mastered swordsmanship hadn't touched a weapon in years, then began learning the blade all over again... He is rediscovering things he already knew long ago, one by one. Either way, it is astonishing."
I entrusted Luke's training to the mercenary company.
At first, the mercenaries reacted with lukewarm enthusiasm. They were told to teach swordsmanship to some vagrant-looking boy they'd brought in claiming he was a survivor of the farming village. They couldn't understand why this order had been given, and they had no motivation for it either.
"Swordsmanship isn't something you pick up overnight."
"I don't know what the point is, but the Demon Lord gave the order, so I guess we'll give it a shot."
That was roughly the mood.
The mercenaries were already physically and mentally exhausted from keeping watch for bandits on the road ahead. They never knew when or where an ambush might come. On top of that, being saddled with training a brat out of nowhere—they probably wouldn't have complained to my face, but they must have found it extremely annoying.
The first day.
The lowest-ranking dwarf in the mercenary company got stuck with Luke. They'd dumped the most annoying burden on the youngest. The order had come down, so he'd follow through, but he sure as hell wasn't happy about it. You could feel the whole company's quiet protest radiating off him.
"Hey, kid. Go on, take a few swings."
The youngest dwarf tossed a sword to Luke. It was a cheap wooden practice blade.
Luke tilted his head.
"A sword?"
"If you were born a man, you ought to at least know how to protect yourself."
"Nah, too much trouble."
The dwarf snuck a glance at me. I was watching them from a short distance away out of the corner of my eye. From the dwarf I could practically smell the emotion: 'This is so damn annoying, seriously.'
I smiled sweetly while sipping water with grape vinegar mixed in. Go ahead, complain all you want.
The dwarf sighed.
"I'm the one who's more annoyed here, you cheeky little brat."
"If I'm annoyed and you're annoyed, then why bother? When two annoyed people do an annoying thing, it just ends up being annoying times two, doesn't it?"
"You'll understand when you grow up, but there's nothing in this world that isn't annoying. Even rolling out of bed in the morning is annoying, you little punk."
The dwarf lightly flicked Luke on the forehead.
"Let's say a wolf or some bandits suddenly attack. What are you going to do?"
"A w-wolf?"
The boy's normally cocky face twisted with fear.
"Oh, well, you guys would protect me!"
"Of course we'd protect you. But here's the thing. Just because we say we'll protect you doesn't guarantee you'll actually be safe. What if we miss even one wolf? What if that one wolf happens to charge straight at you, huh? What, you gonna just say, 'Oh, Mr. Wolf, you must've had a rough time surviving this cold, hungry winter—please, have some of my chest meat,' and let it eat you?"
"Eww."
The mere thought of it made his skin crawl — Luke clamped both hands over his ears. He was one expressive little kid. Just watching him was never boring.
"You little brat, learn while I'm still asking nicely. Your sister's laid up sick too, and if something happens, you're the one who has to protect her."
"R-right… You're right. I'm the one who has to protect Daisy."
As if he'd finally found the motivation, Luke picked up the wooden sword.
For the record, Luke genuinely believed we were the Emperor's army. We'd been patrolling the border when we happened upon his village under attack and rushed to help; another unit guided the refugees to a new settlement, and Luke, found too late, was taken in by our unit separately… That was the scenario.
Why on earth would the Emperor's direct unit be wandering around some backwater like that? It was an outright lie.
Now eleven years old, Luke was just happy to get to spend time with soldiers.
What could I say? It was a perfectly natural attitude for a child. Maybe it was because his one-year-younger sister was showing maturity far beyond her age — even though Luke's reaction was the expected one, it somehow felt odd instead…
*'Come to think of it, having two Daisies around would be terrifying in its own way.'*
Even while her flesh was being carved open and her heart was being driven through with a stake, Daisy just gritted her teeth and kept glaring. The world only needed one kid like that.
Luke swung the wooden sword awkwardly. It was clearly the first time he'd ever held a sword.
"D-do I swing it like this?"
"Mm-hm. Top to bottom. Yeah, like that. Spread your feet waaide apart. That's right."
"Like this?"
"Good. You're doing well. Now just do that a hundred times."
The dwarf's voice was brimming with laziness.
He had them practice the downward swing during rest breaks along the march. It was simply a matter of swinging a sword from top to bottom, but even to a layman's eyes, it was the most fundamental of fundamentals in swordsmanship.
Well, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I could leave him to it at his own pace.
I lost interest and moved on to discuss with Zachary where they would be marching.
The second day dawned.
I slept in the carriage specially. It was warded with anti-magic enchantments, so even if someone launched a surprise attack, we could mount a sufficient defense. I would have liked to share quarters with the soldiers, but Zachary and Jeremy both asked me to reconsider at the same time, citing security concerns.
I wasn't the only one in the carriage—Daisy was there too. However, she hadn't opened her eyes even once since her surgery. Right now, she lay in a corner of the carriage like a corpse. According to Jeremy, she wouldn't wake up for at least two more days.
When I stepped out of the carriage, the party had already prepared breakfast. It was soup boiling vigorously over a campfire. They'd even spread butter on the flour and cooked it properly. For hobo food, it was practically top-shelf.
"Tomorrow, you're the one cooking. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Honestly, you act like you've done something amazing just because you boiled some soup."
Zachary and Jeremy growled at each other as they ate breakfast. The two officers were even engaged in a petty rivalry over which side would handle meals. It looked like today's breakfast was the mercenary company's responsibility, not the assassin squad's.
"Oh, give me a break. You two. It's just boiling water—what's with the long faces like you're about to tear each other apart?"
Exasperated, I scolded them, and Zachary and Jeremy both turned to look at me at the exact same moment. Their expressions were deadly serious. With Zachary's naturally menacing face and Jeremy's face half-melted by burns, it was honestly a little intimidating.
"We apologize, Your Majesty. But this is a matter between dwarves and elves."
"That's right. Three thousand years of conflict are at stake here."
"......"
Three thousand years of conflict, my foot. Are you insane?
I had half given up on reconciling the mercenary company and the assassin squad. All I could do now was earnestly hope they wouldn't turn on each other when battle eventually came.
We were all gathered together—the leadership—sipping soup when someone approached us.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty. I'm sorry to bother you, but......"
"Hm?"
It was the youngest dwarf.
He looked terribly apologetic, hunching over and making himself as small as possible. Disturbing the Demon Lord's breakfast was, after all, something to be sorry about. Zachary glared at the youngest dwarf with a look that said, "Are you out of your mind?"
"Rekhan. Have you lost it? Since when did my unit throw courtesy on the ground?"
"I-I'm sorry, sir. But I thought it was something I needed to report right away......"
"Well, it's come to this."
I raised a hand to stop Zachary.
"Let's hear him out first. What happened?"
"It's about the human child Your Majesty entrusted to us..."
The youngest dwarf stammered hesitantly.
"I-I'm unable to take charge of him."
"What? You, of all people?"
Zachary's voice boomed in an instant.
"No matter how trivial the task may be, it's an order from Her Majesty. Do you not fear death, Rekhan?"
"Captain. It's not that..."
"No excuses. Her Majesty treats you lot leniently, and you've grown blind to it. The crime of showing discourtesy to the throne as a Demonkin, the crime of undermining military discipline as a soldier—I'll engrave them on your neck."
Zachary grabbed his axe and sprang to his feet. Oh dear.
"Ah, ah. Wait a moment, Captain Zachary. A crime is eternal—the punishment can come at any time. At the very least, hear Rekhan's defense for why he thinks that."
"...If that is Your Majesty's command."
Zachary curled his lips and took a step back.
Zachary, the youngest dwarf, and I all knew the truth. It was all Acting. Every mercenary here was a professional. They wouldn't interrupt a mealtime to file a report unless it was something truly important. Zachary was merely using the threat to enforce discipline as the mercenary captain.
"Now then. Rekhan. Tell me. Why can't you take charge of Luke?"
"I'm deeply honored, Your Majesty. I'll speak frankly. That child is far beyond my station."
"Beyond your station?"
The youngest dwarf nodded.
"Yes. At first, I figured it was just because he'd grown up in the mountains that he had such stamina. Then I thought the little brat simply had good instincts. But as time went on I grew more and more certain, and after staying up late last night examining him, I reached my conclusion."
"What conclusion?"
"Your Majesty. That boy is a genius."
The youngest dwarf looked almost embarrassed as he spoke.
"There are only a very rare few like them — people born into this world for nothing more than to hold a sword. That boy is exactly that kind. All I showed him was a downward slash and a diagonal slash, and he'd already figured out how to balance his legs, torso, head, and arms."
"What?"
Zachary's brow furrowed deeply. This time it wasn't an act. He was genuinely stunned.
"What are you saying, Rekan? You're not lying just because you don't want to take on a troublesome task, are you?"
"Oh, come on, Brother Zachary. Do you really think I've lost my mind?"
The youngest dwarf also grew exasperated and dropped the formal tone.
"If you don't believe me, test him yourself. I spent all night examining him and I'm still not sure what to make of it."
"Bodily balance isn't something you achieve through talent alone. It's something you internalize naturally through countless hours of practice and training. How could a human child possibly..."
"See, that's exactly why I pretended to be crazy and reported it to His Majesty. Did you think I wanted to interrupt his breakfast? The mercenaries over there are already glaring at me like they want to kill me."
He glanced past the youngest dwarf and saw that every single mercenary gathered in the clearing was staring their way. Not one of them said a word, but their expressions made it clear they planned to beat the youngest dwarf to a pulp the moment he returned.
The youngest dwarf shook his head and let out a sigh.
"Honestly, even this is me downplaying it. From what I can see, that little brat... it looks like he's even circulating mana through his breathing."
"What — mana?"
Zachary's voice shot up a full octave.