A Promise
They had won.
But it was a victory covered in wounds.
From the 1st floor to the 10th, every layer had been swept clean. The monsters stationed there were annihilated, and the facilities were all destroyed.
Even the tower's summit, the 11th floor, wasn't much different.
Draxon had forced the strategy of gathering all power at the top floor. Thanks to that, he had won—yet it resulted in a head-on clash with a hero squad that had preserved their strength all the way to the 11th floor.
"Damn it. Rozel Charnt—because of that woman and her elite unit, our losses are massive!"
The Crimson Flame Assault Unit, was it? His teeth ground automatically.
"Fortunately, we still have many magic-power points remaining."
Casey calmed Draxon.
The main source of magic-power points was the negative emotions of humans, but the truth was that a far more valuable fuel was human life itself. And among those who bled inside the tower were many heroes.
Heroes gained dimensional power opposing the invaders—ironically, when they died, they granted a Demon King even greater power.
"It won't be enough, but we should be able to restore a good portion."
At Casey's report, Draxon shook his head. He too knew that restoring the tower was the highest priority.
He knew the Hero Guild would be sharpening its blades. He also knew that though they had helped once, there would never be a second time.
But Draxon couldn't follow that logic.
"I will report to Archduke Alkaine and have him search the tower's records."
What caused this situation?
That one. The bastard who infiltrated the tower and caused Ormus's second prince to die. The majin sent by some Demon King.
If that bastard hadn't meddled, Ormus's second prince wouldn't have died. The hero campaign wouldn't have begun. Hundreds of heroes wouldn't have charged in, and the tower wouldn't be in ruins.
So Draxon couldn't bear it. Whatever happened, he wanted to find him. Find him and take revenge.
The last reserves of magic-power harvested from defeating the hero squad had to be spent for that purpose.
Crossing dimensions required tremendous power.
Even simple communication across dimensional walls consumed enormous energy, and reporting to Archduke Alkaine alone would burn many magic-power points.
He would report, receive permission—and the "tower's record" was one of countless authorities a tower possessed. Activating it also required vast magic-power.
"But, my lord…! What if a second hero campaign begins while you're doing that…?!"
"I won't die."
Draxon didn't fully trust Archduke Alkaine. But he trusted the magic-power he had privately tributed to him over the years.
And he trusted his own ability to continue providing it in the future.
"Archduke Alkaine will not discard me."
Arein was called the graveyard of Demon Kings. Jayson Cocmoond had survived there the longest, and afterwards, the number of Demon Kings who endured began to slowly increase.
Draxon was the second-longest survivor. Nearly a hundred years he had endured here. Archduke Alkaine would not easily give up such a capable pawn.
"Leave. I must contact His Excellency."
"…Yes, may you achieve your wish."
Casey left the office.
Draxon approached the crystal orb.
Vast demonic energy flowed into it. The tower trembled.
***
There were ten Archdukes in the Demon Realm.
Each oversaw a dimension, and under each Archduke served five Demon Kings.
How those Demon Kings performed—how much magic-power they sent back to the Demon Realm, how quickly they subdued a dimension—everything became the Archduke's track record.
And in that sense, Arein was the worst dimension of all.
Arein had devoured dozens of Demon Kings over the years, and the deaths of Demon Kings counted as failures for the Archdukes.
It was a place of exile. Once assigned, one had to abandon all hope of career advancement. The worst post imaginable.
"...Though it isn't entirely bad."
If one lacked ambition, few dimensions were as comfortable.
Once upon a time, Demon Kings died daily, but after a certain point, they began to adapt. Deaths decreased. Now, nothing much changed.
One position rotated frequently, but that was all.
Arein was a discarded dimension, and supervision from above was lax. One could run it comfortably while collecting tribute—and no one cared.
Thus, Archduke Alkaine Blamiph liked Arein.
There was no risk of conquest, so unlike the other Archdukes, he didn't have to adapt to new dimensions.
Demon King deaths had become rare, so even that burden was small.
Meanwhile, he kept his title, received extra compensation from outsiders who pitied his "dreadful" posting, and enjoyed steady tribute from a few competent Demon Kings.
For Alkaine Blamiph, who planned to hold out another century and then retire, there was no better paradise.
Though not quite perfect…
He recalled the troublemaker who had recently shaken the Demon Realm.
That insolent brat. Alkaine had voluntarily accepted him and sent him to Arein. And to prevent tricks, he had given orders through Draxon.
I expected him to die immediately, yet he's surviving surprisingly well.
Because of dimensional interference, reports were infrequent—but he never abandoned monitoring entirely.
He knew the brat kidnapped the first princess of Hildran, that a hero campaign had begun because of it, and that the campaign had fallen apart.
He built his tower in some absurd location, didn't he?
The heroes couldn't even find the tower. Building a tower somewhere "appropriately obvious and appropriately dangerous" was the standard—but this brat ignored it completely.
It annoyed him. Even so, Alkaine endured it.
The brat had openly spat on orthodoxy at the graduation ceremony. He expected trouble.
Tower placement is ambiguous anyway. "Appropriately dangerous and appropriately visible" is subjective.
He could punish him for it—but not severely. So Alkaine waited. He waited for Berze to commit another offense.
A troublemaker like him would never stop at one sin.
Over time, they would pile up. And each one would tighten the noose.
Dalgoon.
Alkaine savored his blood-red wine. The faint scent of blood made the taste richer.
Knock, knock—
"Your Excellency. A communication from Arein."
"Who?"
"Demon King, Draxon Dordov."
"I'll take it."
It is not time for his regular report…
Even trivial communication across a dimensional wall required great power. There were no unnecessary transmissions.
He arrived at the dimensional communication chamber and closed the door. The violently trembling conduit pulsed as he injected magic-power into it.
『I greet Your Excellency, the Archduke.』
A familiar face bowed deeply.
"What brings you here so suddenly? There is still nearly a month until the scheduled report…"
『I request permission to search the tower's record.』
"...What has happened?"
Searching the tower's record required vast amounts of magic. Most Demon Kings avoided it whenever possible. Since Alkaine Blamiph became Archduke, not a single Demon King had ever requested it.
『A high-class majin has infiltrated my territory. A high-class majin is…』
A grim, hopeless report. If he was telling the truth, Draxon was in a precarious state—on the verge of being extinguished at any moment. A second hero campaign attacking soon would be no surprise.
Draxon Dordov might die?
Losing his most reliable magic-power supplier so anticlimactically was absolutely not in his interest.
"Who do you suspect?"
『I suspect Jayson Cocmoond.』
"And Berze Deias?"
『But no high-class majin accompanies him.』
Reasonable deduction. However…
Something feels off.
The Jayson he knew would never pull such a reckless move. Nor would Reyna Sordein or Ugar velvek.
And something else bothers me.
Berze's confident smirk came to mind. Could any other Demon King commit such rebellious acts—things no normal Demon King would dare?
"Very well. I will lift the protective authority over the tower's record. It will take time, so…"
Alkaine Blamiph swallowed the unease. First, he needed to examine the record and find the rebel who dared strike another Demon King from the shadows.
***
A faint incense scent filled the dim bedchamber.
The ragged breathing was thin and weak.
Attendants wiped the sweat from the old man's brow. Then the door opened slightly.
"We greet Your Highness, the Prince."
The attendants bowed.
"Leave us. I must speak with His Majesty."
"But…"
"I will not say it twice."
"...Yes."
The attendants hurried out.
Only the two of them remained in the dark room. The prince pulled a chair close to the bed and sat. He gazed into the old man's barely-opening eyes.
"...What… is it."
"We have received word from the Acan Kingdom. They wish to completely destroy the Beast Tower and requested to secretly dispatch elites."
"...That… must not… Crossing a border… under the pretext of the tower is…"
"I already agreed."
"The tower… must not collapse…!"
The old man's eyes shook violently. The prince spoke calmly.
"Do you know the state of our kingdom right now? Our elite two thousand simply vanished. Max is dead, and the nobles who followed him are gone too—our internal void is severe."
"And because the hero squad weakened the Demon King poorly, the monsters of the uncontrolled region are scattering everywhere."
"Even at this very moment, our citizens are dying."
For Ormus, the Beast Tower had been a necessary evil.
A Demon King was an enemy that should be destroyed, but the Beast Demon King's partial control over the monsters in the forest had greatly reduced the kingdom's burden.
Moreover, in a poor kingdom with few revenue sources, the enormous money spent by heroes and the Hero Guild when they searched for the tower was precious income.
But those days were gone.
"Max was the one who first violated the Demon King's territory. We broke the tacit agreement. Whether the Demon King will extend the same mercy as before… is uncertain."
Furthermore, someone had manipulated Balaf Dislord into sabotaging the hero campaign. Whatever the motive was, the prince doubted it would ever benefit Ormus.
"Therefore, the tower must fall. That is the best option now."
But Ormus alone lacked the strength. Thus he accepted Acan's request.
"They will cross into Ormus in secret. Their numbers are small; if we are careful, no other nation will notice."
"We merely have to open the path briefly. Then Rozel Charnt, the assault unit, and Acan's elites will slay the Demon King."
"In return, we receive a vast amount of gold and some spoils."
It was short-term gain. But in a moment where everything could collapse, even that was precious.
"But… if the tower falls, the kingdom's future will…"
"That future will be shaped by me—not Your Majesty, who lies on the brink of death in this chamber."
"...How dare you."
Lines of blood filled the old man's eyes.
"Perhaps it saddens you. You preferred Max to inherit the throne, after all."
The concubine's son, Max, had only been an equal claimant to the throne because of the old man's direct backing.
But Max died, and the shock had confined the king to his bed—leaving no one willing to support him.
"Rest quietly in your chambers. I will ensure you are cared for… until the end."
The prince rose.
Ah. And one more thing.
He turned back.
"Kaede Jespine, was it?"
The imperial princess received as a concubine after they paid massive tribute to the Jespine Empire.
He did not scold the old man for "wasting the kingdom's resources on a single woman."
It was a bribe to beg for the empire's mercy. And the princess was the proof—a collar showing Ormus served the empire.
Ormus could not escape the empire's influence, so they had no choice but to wear that collar.
"If she is rescued from the Demon King's tower, I will take her as my consort."
Surely, she desires that as well.
The prince bowed deeply.
"Rest well. I will inherit the throne, Father."
Click—
The door closed.
***
"Draxon is an idiot."
Berze strengthened that belief.
Not because he was stupid, but because he was incompetent.
"Humans didn't notice. Elves didn't. Spirits didn't. Demon Kings didn't. Heroes didn't."
No one sensed that Berze was a Demon King.
That was how remarkable the Phoenix's corpse was. But in Berze's previous life, even after absorbing a power of that caliber, Draxon had accomplished nothing noteworthy.
So he was an idiot.
Of course, it wasn't without drawbacks.
Pure mana—this unfamiliar power—was not something the Demon King Berze could handle with ease. Worse yet, his own body burned under its physical backlash.
In other words, the more he used the power, the more injuries he suffered.
A dogshit irony.
But since what he gained far outweighed the restrictions, Berze didn't care.
He couldn't even imagine how much he would be able to accomplish now, blending into Arein's race with this power.
"What troubles your mind so much?"
Hillen Cargill's voice broke his thoughts.
"I was thinking about what comes after we hunt the Beast Demon King."
"You think you'll succeed."
"We will succeed. There is no other option."
This wasn't confidence or bravado. No matter what happened, Draxon had to die.
"You will cut Draxon's throat."
A Demon King could indeed kill another Demon King and absorb their power. They grow strong by fighting and devouring one another—that is the nature of the demon race.
But not this time.
Berze's body was already at its limit. The demonic energy that should have been stored in two vessels was now concentrated in one, and the other had been taken by this new power.
Even melting those down fully was already overwhelming.
Not that that was the only reason.
There was a great deal Hillen Cargill could gain from severing a Demon King's head.
Honor and power. And status.
"Yes."
Knowing that, Hillen Cargill did not refuse.
"And after that…"
Berze tapped lightly on the table.
"I don't know much about the Hero Guild, but a hero who slays two Demon Kings should be able to secure a position for himself within it, no? Enough to wash away two failures."
"That's correct. And crafting the image of someone who overcomes his own failures—that happens to be my specialty."
"You really are trash."
Berze gave a faint smile.
"I want you to become the backbone of the Hero Guild."
He wanted to bring down the Hero Guild—the greatest enemy of the Demon Kings—from the inside.
"That is what I desire as well."
All heroes are obligated to join the Hero Guild. A group that every hero belongs to could not possibly be weak.
Many heroes dream of becoming the core of the Hero Guild. They crave power.
Hillen Cargill was no different.
"Becoming the master of the Hero Guild is my goal."
"I will make that dream come true. And within it, you will do—"
Berze stopped speaking.
Knock, knock—
Moments later, someone rapped on the door. A human—no, a hero—whom he had never seen before.
"Excuse me. Are you Hillen Cargill and Pale?"
"That's right."
"A message from Captain Rozel Charnt. 'I'll show you what I promised, so come at once.'"
"What he promised, huh."
One promise was to let Hillen Cargill participate in the Hero Expedition.
The other was to push the second Hero Expedition into motion as soon as possible.
According to Hillen, the Hero Guild had been dragging their feet—so what exactly had Rozel done to persuade them?
They'd know once they got there.
Berze rose from his seat.
"Lead the way."
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