This is just playing pretend…
Alone in the church after Linie leaves, I sigh, shedding my robe. I'm a clown, no different from playing priest in the Holy Capital. Now it's village chief. Should've mimicked Stark's leadership style. Linie'd hate it, but a priest's robe would be clearer.
Humans are such a hassle… Glad I'm a demon.
Truly. Humans signal strength or status through appearance—something demons instantly gauge with mana. So I dress up to impress, a tedious, wasteful act. Royalty, officials, even my old priest robes served that purpose. My horns mark me as a demon, but humans grow used to them. My petite frame makes them underestimate me. This red robe's a substitute, but a priest's garb might work better.
That habit's why this place is at war…
It sums up the Southern Countries' state—maybe all humans. Unable to judge strength, they fight needlessly. Demons wouldn't; we obey the strongest, like the Demon King's rule—simple, primal survival of the fittest.
But humans wield more than mana or might. I've seen it these fifty years: political schemes, backstabbing, malice. I was entangled in it at the Royal and Holy Capitals. It's worse here. In a month, I've witnessed it—villages ravaged, humans despairing, like during the demon wars. Only now, it's humans against humans. Fewer demons survive here—most were in the north with the Demon King's forces.
Without a common enemy, humans turned on each other. Himmel's party tried to prevent it, but even they failed. Too kind, perhaps.
If they'd ruled humans seriously, things might've been different…
I recall telling Heiter: the Hero's Party should've dominated humanity. A strong nation could've curbed human conflict. The Northern Empire, enduring our invasions, proves it—stable despite demons and harsh lands. Better than here.
The Central Countries are stable too, thanks to the Hero's symbolic deterrence. Demons like me are limited by Himmel's presence. Imagine if they'd ruled outright. They shunned that, which let them defeat the Demon King. Fitting for them. Heiter could've, but he's too lazy.
I'm no better…
Sighing again, I gaze out the window. Villagers live dull, ordinary lives. A human village, ruled by a demon—me.
How did this happen? It started with getting caught in human conflicts. No, Linie dove in, saving a human child during the war. She mimicked Himmel. I'd have done the same as the Scale.
The problem came after. Our interference chaoticized the battlefield. To avoid worse, Linie and I repelled both human sides. Exhausted or sensing defeat, they retreated. Like when the Demon King's army existed, our third-party presence halted their fight.
But it didn't end. Humans, mistaking us for saviors, flocked to our base. They saw us as peacemakers, evoking familiar faith—and something human books call reciprocity, mistaking our actions as aid. Within six months, I was worshipped again.
At first, I ignored them. Too troublesome to shoo away. If they weren't harmful, let them be. Then they started fighting among themselves, begging me to mediate. Just freed from human oppression, they began oppressing each other—human malice.
I used my Submission Magic to bind them: No violence. Modeled after Himmel's order to me: Don't harm humans. It stops conflict, like declawing beasts. I added no further commands, granting freedom and equality—human ideals. Limited to this ruined village, they can leave anytime. That should suffice.
The Garden… Who named it that?
This is the result: a pretend coexistence game. Himmel wouldn't do this, but I can, as a demon, as the Scale. Not pure like a goddess or priest, but primal, animalistic. A boredom-killer.
Not a bad deal, though. I need to understand human malice. This is my chance—an experiment, observing humans, exploiting their incomprehensible actions.
I'm acting like her…
A chill runs through me. I recall Solitair, the eccentric demon studying humans, close to the Demon King. Annoying, always babbling. I barely listened, but she said something similar. Should've paid attention. No, we're too different—our thinking, our demon nature.
If the village chief were alive, I'd ask him…
I open my book, musing. He'd have been good at this. Too bad he's gone. This book on human behavior and psychology is my substitute, but it's tough to digest—written for humans. I need a translator. Heiter, maybe, though he'll demand a price.
The issue is the proxy… No one else fits. I'll watch for now.
The current problem: the human leader. Equality's the goal, but I can't handle every triviality. I appointed a volunteer, but he's unpopular. Capable, but biased in judgments and resource distribution, like food. I questioned him, got vague answers. Magic could confirm the truth, but it's against the village's ethos. A last resort.
I give them what they want—why are they unhappy?
Freedom, equality, nonviolence—yet they complain. The system's flawed: growing population, food and medical shortages. Grumbling's starting, despite free exit. Hard workers and lazy ones clash. Equality's fraying. Humans seem to crave irrationality.
Worse, indirect violence grows— theft, slander, exclusion. Instinctual malice, alien to demons.
All I think about is controlling humans, enforcing submission. I aim to grant freedom and equality like Himmel, yet face the contradiction of doing the opposite.
Ruling them would be easier…
Like I told Heiter, dominating with my Scale of Submission would be simple. But that's the old Guillotine me, no different from the Demon King. Himmel would slay me for it.
That's why laws and scriptures exist—deceptive control, appearing as justice. Heiter called it ruling.
Himmel really dreamed big…
Human coexistence is this hard. Demon-human coexistence? A fantasy. Yet Himmel managed it with me. I reach for my freesia accessory—
Wait! How didn't I see it? I, of all people, should know!
I realize I've lived the answer. My Submission Magic makes puppets of weighed souls. Himmel used it differently, reforming me—a demon—with human ways. Not just his three rules, but curbing my cannibalistic urges and other conditions. That's how I adapted to human society, becoming the Scale.
To reform humans against malice, banning violence isn't enough. Their mindset must change. Freedom and equality can't be given—humans crave domination, giving or receiving it, while lying about wanting freedom. Himmel said it: humans are liars.
So what do I do? Simple. Lie. Deceive. Pretend to offer freedom and equality while dominating. That's my demonic truth. As I reach this—
"Aura-sama! Visitors!"
Linie's loud voice and a knock interrupt. Quiet time's over. Another visitor? A busy day. But something's off. Visitors, not refugees, already in the village without my permission. Someone I know. I was too lost in thought, neglecting mana detection.
"…Let them in."
I close the book, shifting to my Scale, demonic self. No need for the robe—they know I'm a demon.
An older man enters. Last seen ten years ago. More dignified, but his unchanged demeanor and potent mana mark him as no ordinary human. Even I, a great demon, can't underestimate this mage.
"It's been a while, Aura-sama."
He bows, greeting a demon like me. Rare for a human mage.
This is my reunion with Lernen, the Continental Magic Association's first First-Class Mage—a guaranteed hassle.
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