Zilbagias the Demon Prince: How the Seventh Prince Brought Down the Kingdom Volume 2 E-Book

Tomoaki Amagi

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Zilbagias the Demon Prince: How the Seventh Prince Brought Down the Kingdom
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 429

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

In five short years, Zilbagias has made vast strides in the demonic kingdom. Between his miraculous transformation after visiting the Abyss and his formed contract with the Devil God of Taboo, his acquisition of a high elf pet which gave him access to healing miracles unprecedented among the denizens of the dark, and his remarkable displays of combat prowess, he quickly sets himself apart as a prodigy among the demons. While his unnatural talents have made it difficult to keep his disguise intact, with active duty close at hand, his cover—and his resolve—will soon be tested in brand-new, terrible ways. Luckily, his first excursion is just to clear out a band of goblin deserters. Should be simple enough, right?

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Prologue

Chapter 1: Those Hidden in the Dark

Chapter 2: Reviled Child of the Dragon

Chapter 3: That Childhood Friend

Chapter 4: The Proud Dragons

Epilogue

Side Story: The Archduchess’s Nightmare

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Color Images

Table of Contents

Prologue

The Demon Prince woke up early. While the sky was still crimson and the sun was still not yet under the horizon, the prince was already getting out of bed.

“Good evening, Lord Zilbagias.”

“Good evening, Master Zilbagias!”

“Yeah, good evening.”

As always, his attendant butler, the devil Sophia, and his personal maid, the white tiger beastfolk Garunya, had been the ones to wake him. Demons pretended to be more refined than they actually were, but they were still savages. This meant it was not customary for maids to dress those they served, unlike in human culture. After dressing himself, he would then partake in his “waking meal,” what humans would refer to as “breakfast.”

“All right, time for some exercise. Come on, Liliana.” After breakfast, he would then take his beloved pet for a walk. “You’re quite energetic today, aren’t you?” The prince laughed as his pet dog scurried about on all fours, barking away happily.

All it took was a few days for the rumor of the “seventh prince’s new pet” to spread within the castle’s walls. There was an equal balance of curiosity and fear in the eyes of those they passed in the halls of the castle. It was not part of demon culture to keep pets. That in itself would have made Zilbagias’s circumstances rare. But the fact he had managed to turn a high elf into his pet dog was truly exceptional. It was completely unheard of. Despising the high elves above all else, the admiration the night elves held of the prince’s abilities to subdue the saint bordered on worship.

“Okay, Lord Zilbagias. Today we’ll start with reviewing the geography of the center of the continent.”

Once they returned from their walk, it was time to study. As usual, it would be the knowledge devil, Sophia, guiding the lessons. As they were savages, there were many demons who could do little more than basic reading, writing, and arithmetic, but given his role as a prince, education was much more essential to him.

“The center of the continent? I guess that would be the elven forest, the kingdom of Deftelos, and the Duchy of Tritos?”

“Correct. All nations you may come to conquer one day.”

“I see.”

In particular, knowledge about military matters was highly prized. Starting with nations’ relative positions to each other, then populations and production capabilities, followed by simple histories and military strength and overall capability for waging war. A variety of information was pounded into his head.

“You know an awful lot about the Panhuman Alliance for someone with barely any contacts.”

“The night elf information network is pretty good.”

“Ah. That explains it.”

After geography and history came math. Calculations for the amount of supplies needed by a given number of troops and the number of days it would take to acquire them were common questions, all things that were practical and concrete.

And then, after his night meal and a short break, it was the beginning of his hellish physical training.

“Come, Zilbagias. Today I will not be holding back.”

“I’d ask for nothing less, mother!”

On the parade ground he faced his mother, the Archduchess Pratifya, standing ready with her spear. There was a duality to her presence. She was naturally gifted in spearmanship, but also possessed a level of refinement and intelligence quite rare for a savage race like the demons. Quite fitting for a wife of the Demon King. She possessed a frigid beauty, a bold, ferocious smile—with just a tiny bit of affection mixed in—as she stared down her son. There was no doubting the love she had for Zilbagias, but it was still very different from the kind of love of a human parent.

“You’re getting quite good at this!”

“Thanks!”

Spear clashed against spear, sparks flying as their metal tips struck. Indeed, their training utilized actual weaponry, akin to a real battle. But...

“Guh!”

The prince let out a pained cry as Pratifya’s spear bit into his flank. There wasn’t the slightest semblance of mercy in her attacks. All wounds were permissible here, as long as a swift death was avoided. As the fight progressed, the prince grew more and more bloody.

“Gah...Me Ta Fesui!”

Dark magic poured from the prince as he activated the Rage family’s unique ability, Transposition, a curse to shift one’s wounds and maladies onto another.

“Still too soft.”

Despite his efforts, the gap in their magical strength was still quite large, making him unable to penetrate his mother’s magic resistance. Easily brushing off the curse, she used the opening left by his attempt to slam the haft of her spear into him, pulverizing his shoulder and collarbone.

Zilbagias cried out, the intense pain driving him to his knees, eyes wide and mouth frothing. His spear slipped from the grip of his now impotent arm and clattered to the ground.

“You’re focusing too much on your magic. Neglect your movements and your magic will not profit you at all. You must execute the spell much faster in order to avoid giving your opponent a clear opening.”

“Yes...mother...” the prince responded to her advice between groans, his crimson eyes still burning with fighting spirit.

Breaking free from Garunya’s control, Liliana dashed to the prince’s side with panicked barking, tears in her eyes. As she licked at his face, his whole body was wrapped in a bright glow, his wounds mending of their own accord.

“What a convenient power...” Pratifya murmured, her voice impressed yet her expression conflicted.

Compared to the Rage family curse, which required a target to force one’s injuries upon, Liliana’s healing miracle was incomparably convenient. As a member of the Rage family, which had secured their position in the demonic kingdom as the foremost healers, it was no wonder she’d have a few thoughts about it.

“No matter. Thanks to her, our training can continue for much longer. Now, let us resume.”

Pratifya recovered, readying her spear yet again. If they were using Transposition to heal, their training would be forced to an end as the prepared human slaves would all succumb to their injuries.

With Liliana’s effectively infinite healing power, they could keep fighting as long as they possessed the energy to keep moving.

“Gladly...!”

Fully recovered, the prince took up his spear once again.

“You have grown to enjoy this training an awful lot now that the use of human sacrifices has been avoided, haven’t you?” a certain devil god murmured.“I must say, it’s unfortunate that you also avoided partaking in that taboo...”

Shut up.

Anyway, hello. It’s me, Alexander, now known as Zilbagias. Once again, I’m playing the part of this shitty demon prince.

Chapter 1: Those Hidden in the Dark

A train of carriages raced down the night road, cutting through the demonic kingdom with no heed to the surrounding terrain. Inside one of those carriages, I was sinking into a rather comfortable seat while looking out the window at the countryside whizzing past us.

It had been quite a while since I freed Liliana from the night elf prison.

Just as Prati had planned, I was heading out to exterminate a band of goblin deserters. Our destination was a ruined fortress two days out from the castle by carriage.

“The purpose of this exercise is to experience traveling over land and acquiring some tactical achievements.”

Or so she said. In short, I was playing soldier for a bit.

It probably would’ve taken mere hours to reach the fort on dragonback, but in order to get experience working in an ordinary unit (or at least as ordinary a unit as a prince would ever join), we were going by carriage. Along with me were a number of servants, including Sophia and Garunya, as well as a few night elf hunters.

The accompanying night elves were those I had healed due to my deal with the former prison warden, Sidar. They had made a contract that for anywhere between a few months to a few years, they would serve me personally. So far, the unit consisted of a young hunter who had her stomach ripped open, a hunter who had lost consciousness after a sword was rammed into his chest, and a spy who had one of his legs all but torn off. Among them, the spy in particular possessed a magical energy almost on par with that of a demon. His skill was apparent even at a glance. Once he returned to active duty, I could only imagine the havoc he would wreak.

The standard Rage family healing quota would typically be used on someone of his caliber, but due to recent movements on the front lines, there were an overwhelming number of demands for treatment. When put on a scale, a spy that would lose a leg and thus lose his usefulness as an agent was weighed against someone so gravely wounded they would lose their life if not treated. It was difficult for the night elf leadership to make a judgment on which way the scale should tip. So none other than the seventh demon prince Zilbagias had arrived to lend a helping hand.

“From the bottom of our hearts, we give you our utmost thanks and swear our loyalty, Your Highness.”

After being treated and restored to full health, the now quite sprightly night elves had immediately bowed down before me.

They had witnessed me take their injuries with Transposition, and so had seen me vomit blood, lose my leg, and thrash about in agony. Apparently having a demon prince offer his own body to save them had pulled at their heartstrings, inspiring a sincere loyalty in them that was very much unlike their people.

“The night elves are vindictive and crafty, so you cannot let your guard down around them, but they are also quite dutiful.”

Prati’s words resurfaced in the back of my mind. I was a bit torn on the matter. No matter how dutiful they might have been, it was a night elf that had killed my mother in my past life...

Regardless, that was the unit I was taking with me on this little excursion.

“I will be assigning observers and guards to protect you as well, but pay them no mind. Proceed as you would normally.”

Though I’d still be under observation, it was my first time venturing out without Prati. It was also the first time I was leaving the castle since my trip to the Dark Portal...but with so many night elves and devils tagging along, I certainly couldn’t ease up.

“This carriage thing is pretty comfortable,” I said, looking over the spacious interior of our vehicle. All while trying to pretend it was my first time riding one for Sophia’s sake, who was sitting opposite of me. As frustrating as it was to admit, this was much more comfortable than the carriages I had ridden in my human life. “From the human literature I read, I thought it would be a much bumpier ride.”

“Some special work was done to this one that humans can’t manage.” Sophia nodded with a proud smile. “Did you notice the metal box seated between the cabin and the wheels?”

“Is there some mechanism in there?”

“Yes. There are some specially altered skeletons inside. Apparently they absorb and control the shock experienced by the carriage.”

Suddenly I didn’t feel all that comfortable anymore. As gentle as the ride was, all it took was that little tidbit to make me uneasy.

“By the way, that was an invention of the lich Enma.”

Him again? In case you were wondering, the carriage was being drawn not by living horses, but by horse skeletons. They were covered in thick black leather and cloth so that they wouldn’t disintegrate in the sunlight. Though they would slow down in the daytime, as long as they had magic to fuel them, these undead horses could go on forever. They had become a critical piece of the demonic kingdom’s supply network.

“On top of that, this road was fashioned by the Corvut family. Unlike most stone roads, this one has almost no seams or variations in level, so much of the shaking is eliminated.”

The roads in this area had been fashioned through brute force by the Corvut family, who specialized in earth property magic. The stone roads their magic built were frighteningly smooth and incredibly resilient. The fact these undying horses could run at full speed down these perfect roads and still take two days to reach our destination must have meant it was actually pretty far away.

A whine preceded a light thump on my knees. Liliana, wearing a cute little dress, was rubbing her face against me. She had been brought along for her healing powers.

“Good girl,” I said, a quick scratch behind the ears drawing a happy growl from her. Her arms and legs were still short. With metal caps welded to the ends of her limbs, it would take some surgical work to remove them and allow her limbs to regenerate. Which of course would involve cutting. As she was now, Liliana was still deathly afraid of blades.

Beyond that, the night elves also warned that if she were allowed to regenerate her hands and feet, she would be a tremendous danger to everyone in the castle in the event she ever regained her sense of self. Forest elves were quite adept with magic. As such, as much as it pained me to leave her like this, her arms and legs remained truncated.

“Listen everyone. Treat her kindly and with respect. If someone messes up and our relationship sours, her healing power could stop working on me.”

Thanks to those orders, the servants treated Liliana pretty well. The night elves clearly didn’t appreciate it, bitter expressions occasionally appearing on their faces, but they kept their composure and didn’t make a fuss. And thanks to her, I was able to continue my training without killing any more humans.

That didn’t mean the slaves had been saved. All it meant was they would be used for healing elsewhere. The best I had accomplished was prolonging their inevitable fate by a few days.

“And now that they are not killed for your sake, the power you might have gained from them is lost.”

Ante had mentioned. But saving ten or so slaves every day, putting off their deaths for a few days each time, might result in a small handful of lives being saved once the demonic kingdom fell. The potential power from committing that taboo might be a considerable loss, but that was a trade-off I was willing to take. Besides, I was sure I’d have a frustratingly large number of opportunities to make up for it later.

As I stroked Liliana’s hair, I felt someone staring at us. Looking up, I saw Garunya at Sophia’s side, staring intently at Liliana. Very, very intently. Her face was quite serious, her tail swaying back and forth, her hands clenched tight on her skirt.

“...Oh!” Noticing my attention, she quickly looked away.

“Come here, Garunya.”

At my invitation, the maid hesitantly made her way over. I reached out and started scratching at her neck, immediately earning a satisfied purr.

“You’ve gotten quite good at this,” Ante teased. “A high elf dog on your left, a fluffy white cat on your right. A flower for each hand, no?”

Beyond that, I was also now getting a rather cold look from Sophia.

“Having women waiting on me like this makes me look like a real prince, don’t you think?”

Sophia snorted dismissively at my joke, pulling a stupidly thick book out from her chest pocket. I had expected to be practicing magic since we had so much downtime while traveling, but spending it like this wasn’t all that bad either. Putting aside my previous sense of unease for now, I surrendered myself to the backrest as I enjoyed the sensations beneath both my hands.

†††

As much as this was practice for working as part of a military unit, there was no need for us to entirely exhaust ourselves. Before the sun rose, we settled down and started setting up camp. Naturally, as a prince, I didn’t lift a finger. I could sit back and relax while everyone else did the work. It was great. We had multiple carriages with us, so our camp actually took on a bit of the feel of a military encampment.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” I called out to the spy I mentioned earlier as the servants went about preparing dinner.

“How may I be of service, Your Highness?” he responded immediately with a smart bow. He had been leaning up against one of the carriages, arms crossed as he kept watch over the camp.

His name was Virossa. He was middle-aged for a night elf at about 130 years old, and was quite infamous for his work even among his own house. The other night elves all looked to him with respect. Like all other elves, he was blessed with particularly good looks. He wore matte black armor that remained silent even as he moved, and was equipped with a bow and a thin-bladed sword. Not a dagger or a knife. A sword. That was quite rare for a night elf. Every motion he made seemed to be effortless, and if you relaxed your attention for even a moment, your eyes could glide right over him without noticing his presence.

“How are you doing that? It doesn’t look like concealing magic.”

When I was healing him I’d noticed he had incredible magical power, but now his presence felt weak, almost transparent. If there was concealing magic at work, there would’ve been something akin to an unnatural blankness.

“I’m dispersing my magic into the area around me.” With a faint smile, Virossa seemed to collect himself, his presence becoming stronger and more defined. Before it was like I had been looking at him through a foggy glass window, and just like that—never mind the fog—the glass itself had been swept away.

“That’s impressive,” I murmured, rubbing my horns. It was pretty incredible that he could hide himself so well even from the senses of a demon.

“Simply the result of years of training, Your Highness.”

“I wonder if I could do the same, then.”

Virossa’s eyes went wide. “Are you interested? This is a technique designed for executing surprise attacks, or concealing oneself from pursuers...it is not something the demons typically find favorable.” Apparently it wasn’t a very popular technique.

“That has been on my mind lately. In the end, your objective is to kill the enemy, right? How you carry that out doesn’t really matter. Killing them simply means you’re victorious.” I’d jump at the chance to kill the Demon King with poison. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because he had a magic ring for detecting poisons.

“You seem quite...progressive, Your Highness.” Virossa gave another faint smile. It seemed he very much agreed with me.

“Whether I can actually use them or not...and whether I’d actually be allowed to, I’m interested in your techniques,” I said. “I doubt they’re the kind of thing I could pick up in a day, but when you’ve got time, would you mind giving me some tips? I imagine they could prove useful in the future.”

“Absolutely, Your Highness. I would be honored.”

And so, by playing the part of the inquisitive young prince, I broke the ice with a night elf spy and made my first forays toward learning their methods and accessing their information network. In particular, the latter was incredibly important. Learning how the demonic kingdom got information on the Alliance and seeing how that information disseminated was crucial.

“For the most part, I worked behind enemy lines rather than on the battlefield itself.”

“How did you break through the borders?”

“Simply walking through the forests or mountains would likely get me caught by those filthy plant-munchers. Instead, I’ve navigated underground tunnels dug by goblins, or approached by a rather circuitous sea route.”

“How did you get locals to help you?”

“Money, mostly. Are you familiar with the term ‘economics’? Ah, good. That simplifies things. The Alliance is extremely well-developed economically, creating a strong dependence on currency in its citizens. We have a number of puppet organizations operating within the Alliance, but for the most part we work through bribes.”

“What kind of work do you do, in a concrete sense?”

“Using companies that deal in provisions, we send bribes to the Holy Church, giving us access to information about military plans of the Alliance before they ever take place. So we’ll often raze storehouses made in preparation for large military operations, or sabotage bridges critical for mobilization.”

I could feel my blood running cold as he spoke. Demons were savages. For the most part, the mere concept of currency and economy were beyond their understanding. But their subordinates, the night elves, seemed to possess a great understanding of human society. I never expected that they’d have informants as deep as the Holy Church itself. And there were companies supporting the Demon King from within the Alliance?! I desperately put my new young and intelligent brain to work memorizing the names of the companies and cities Virossa mentioned. I wanted to get that information to the Alliance as soon as possible, but right now that seemed like it would be exceedingly difficult.

“Speaking of which, I heard that before I was born, a group of heroes launched an attack on the castle. Did you have any information about that beforehand?”

Virossa grimaced at the question. “Unfortunately we were unable to predict that attack. We knew the white dragons had rebelled, that the Alliance was beginning to use them for flight, that a number of units of heroes had gathered in the Holy Land, and that activity between the Holy Land and various other nations of the Alliance had started to increase...”

Whoa, hold on there pal. It sounds like you understood everything perfectly fine.

“...but we never anticipated a suicide attack on the castle itself.”

So they already had all the puzzle pieces, but couldn’t quite fit them together. Of course, the plan had been top secret, only revealed to those who were in positions of national leadership. Apparently all members of the attack squad had been just like me, without a family to leave behind. Alternatively, it was possible that at such a high level, counterintelligence operations for the Alliance were doing their job...though considering how much was leaking from below that, it was a small consolation.

“But I’m surprised you can operate inside the Alliance without being noticed,” I said with an awed tone. “How do you disguise yourselves so well?”

“Of course we start with makeup to change the color of our skin, but the real difficulty lies in our eyes,” Virossa answered, pointing to his own dark crimson orbs. “It is possible to change their color with magic, but being night elves, not all of us are so capable. As such, we take soft, transparent shells from a species of crab that live in a certain underground lake and dye them with extract from a particular species of corn. We can then apply those lenses to our eyes directly. From the names of the materials used, we named these lenses ‘colorcorns.’”

“Interesting...”

“However, as our eyes are naturally red, we cannot use these lenses to make them blue. Most people aim for brown or black instead. Finally, we have an ointment to apply to the skin to protect us from the sunlight.”

I knew about that one. The herbs used to make it had quite a distinctive smell, so dog beastfolk were quite capable of rooting out night elf encampments.

“However, recently the smell of the ointment has been easily picked up by dogs, making it a liability. As such, we have started using another kind of ointment. For the most part, the original ointment is now used mostly as a diversion. We have a number of similar ointments that do the same thing, all with quite different smells, so whenever one is recognized we simply switch to another.”

What...?!

Despite my shock, I forced myself to ask about the plants used for these other ointments. Virossa seemed quite pleased to inform me about them, but if I pressed for too much detail, he would likely start to get suspicious. He was a spy, after all. I was a demon prince, and had personally healed him of a grievous injury, so he wasn’t particularly on guard against me. But things would get dangerous fast if I did something to earn his suspicion.

“That is how most operatives disguise themselves. Those of us more skilled in magic use Anthromorph magic to appear fully human.”

Within his explanation, he suddenly dropped a bombshell I couldn’t ignore.

“Anthromorph magic?”

“Yes. It is originally a magic of the dragons that allows them to take on a human form.”

Though I had never seen it in action, I had heard about this dragon magic. Apparently, white dragons had used their human forms to negotiate. Are other races capable of doing that?

“Can other races use that magic?” Dragons and humans had been enemies since the dawn of time, so we knew vanishingly little about their biology or their magic.

“Yes. However, acquiring the magic requires the consumption of dragon blood, and it requires a considerable amount of magical power to execute. Getting the dragons to spare some of their blood for us comes at a steep cost, so it is not something everyone can do.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “So, of course you can use it, right?” I asked, earning a grin from the spy.

Suddenly his form twisted and distorted, and in mere moments, a middle-aged human man sat where the night elf once did. Unlike an elf who maintained a youthful appearance for ages, he looked quite properly aged as a human. If you looked really closely you could see traces of Virossa’s features, but from his deep tan to his rough stubble, it was impossible to see him as anything other than human. His ears were round, and his hair and eyes had turned brown.

“Th-That’s incredible...” The sight had me quite shaken. There was no way to tell him apart from the real thing! “How does it stand up to sunlight or holy magic?”

“Sunlight isn’t much of an issue. At worst, we sunburn a little easier than normal humans. However, returning to our ordinary forms while sunburned brings a rather exquisite agony, so we still avoid working during the day as much as possible. Unfortunately, the disguise is worthless against holy magic.”

Thank goodness. So it should be possible to sniff out the imposters with holy magic.

“Also, as I am sure you have already noticed, our senses and magical power reduce to that of an ordinary human while transformed.”

Sure enough, unlike earlier when his presence had been scattered and diluted, now it was...

“Extremely weak, right?” The man smirked, seeing right through me.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“By the way, even people in this form, you cannot underestimate them. Allow me to show you something interesting.” Standing up, Virossa drew the sword at his hip. It was quite the piece, gleaming in the faint morning light. Without much effort, he casually swung the sword at a nearby tree. The blade sliced through the thick trunk without so much as a sound. The tree then collapsed, revealing a terrifyingly clean cut.

I felt goose bumps. His sword looked like it was practically ignoring the laws of nature. Impossible. This guy’s a night elf!

“Even though you’re an elf...” I said, voice shaking, “...you’re a Swordmaster?”

A Swordmaster, one who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, able to perform supernatural techniques with a blade without even a hint of magic. Just like holy magic, they were one of humanity’s trump cards, our ultimate weapons against the demons. That was how it was supposed to be.

“It took me fifty years of training in this human form to reach this level,” Virossa said with a small yet smug laugh as he returned the sword to its sheath.

That’s right. It takes even a genius swordsman close to thirty years to awaken as a Swordmaster. I can’t begin to imagine how long it would take for an ordinary person. They could spend their whole lives training and never quite reach it. Virossa’s training must’ve been exceptionally brutal.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel like this was unfair. When a human reached this level of skill they were already past their prime, beginning to descend into old age, but this guy got to the same level with another hundred years left in him.

“That’s...amazing. I never thought the first Swordmaster I’d ever encounter would be a night elf.” First for this life, at least. It took me a moment to muster those words.

“I’m the only one within my clan,” Virossa said, returning to his night elf form with a shrug. “It would have been better if I possessed skills with a bow like most other night elves...but unfortunately I lack the talent for archery,” he said with a grimace, scratching embarrassedly at his face.

“So you trained with a sword instead?”

“Yes, seemed suitable since I would frequently use a sword while undercover. Appears to be a rather poorly thought-out weapon, doesn’t it? Not as convenient or mobile as a knife, but not as much range as a spear.”

Hold up. You’re not about to talk trash about my swords, are you?

“Yet as I continued to practice, I became quite attached. As pathetic as that is.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh, patting the scabbard.

Hm. My mouth twisted into something of a grimace. I guess no one who hated the sword could become a Swordmaster.

“But I’ve never heard of someone who could use magic being loved by the laws of nature.”

Even setting aside the issue of his race, becoming a Swordmaster while being able to use magic on the level of a demon was no small feat. It was basically accepted that mages couldn’t become Swordmasters. The laws of nature didn’t like them.

These laws were extremely strict. If you threw a rock, it would fall. If you put water in a high place, it would flow to a lower place. That’s how this world was built. Those laws made up the fundamental structure of reality. But those with strong magic, in other words mages, could warp reality around them through their will and their words. As such, when a mage wielded a sword, their body would grow stronger and their blade would become sharper, all without any conscious effort on their part.

This infuriated the laws of nature. From nature’s perspective, mages were outlaws, ignoring the rules it had established. It went without saying the laws of nature would hate a person like that. In contrast, those who dedicated themselves to sincere training without trying to circumvent those natural laws would very, very rarely earn nature’s favor.

This was where ultimate techniques came from. These people would be able to slice apart a stone boulder with a wooden sword, close a gap dozens of paces wide in an instant, or pass through enemy attacks like they weren’t there—miracles that were on the same level as magic. That was all possible for those who were loved by nature—the ones we had come to know as Swordmasters.

By the way, there were also equivalents for other weapons. A night elf with no talent for magic could become a Bowmaster, and a beastfolk that refined their martial arts to the limit could become a Fistmaster. They were capable of performing miracles without magic, just like Swordmasters. They were often collectively known under the label of Weaponmasters. If memory serves me right, I think one had to be a Fistmaster to be recognized as a king of the beastfolk.

At any rate, a mage couldn’t help but twist reality to achieve their goals, so it was more or less impossible for nature to favor them. So no matter how much they trained, with their inherent talent for magic, there had never been a case of a Spearmaster emerging among the demons.

“When I am in my human form, my magic becomes incredibly weak. I am incapable of using any spell save for the one to return to my original form. Honestly, it is more convenient for slipping into human society as an ordinary person,” Virossa explained, a distant look in his eyes. “When I am in the field, I can rely on nothing but martial arts. That was why I dedicated myself so thoroughly to swordsmanship, studying under a human master and stealing all of his secrets. But I never imagined I would become a Swordmaster like that.”

The turning point had been twenty years ago. While in the field, he coincidentally happened to come into contact with holy magic, which burned him and thus blew his cover. He ended up having to fight a hero in broad daylight.

“Since it was the middle of the day, I couldn’t undo my transformation and simply run. I thought that day would be my last. The defensive wards I possessed were insufficient to stop his holy flames, so I was all but defenseless. He had warded off all of my throwing arrows and poison needles, so all that remained for me was my sword.”

The hero had been especially cautious. Enhancing himself with holy magic, he focused on defense above all else, slowly pushing Virossa into a corner.

“I lost each of our exchanges. Whenever I tried to close in, he would distance himself and retaliate with magic. I even threw my scabbard at him, attempting to create an opening to attack, but I was always one step behind him.”

Even so, he still swung his sword in spite of himself.

“And at that moment, something strange happened. Time seemed to slow. It felt like someone was pushing on my back.”

And the next moment, though he was still hopelessly out of range, his blade found the hero’s throat.

“Sometimes, I relive that moment in my dreams. I still remember the look of shock on his face as he died. Wouldn’t be surprised if I was wearing a similar expression.”

I uttered a silent prayer for the fallen hero, one of my predecessors.

“Ever since that moment, I suppose you could say I have been a Swordmaster. Though I can only use those abilities while in human form.”

“What happens when you try in your night elf form?”

“I have no idea. I have been too scared to try,” Virossa replied, his face deadly serious. Hearing that from a veteran spy felt extremely uncharacteristic. “I had practiced using a sword in my night elf form before, but once I awakened as a Swordmaster, I never again drew my blade without transforming first. I feel if I were to draw my sword and accidentally distort the laws of nature, I would lose nature’s favor forever.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s possible.”

The laws of nature were pretty obstinate. It was a mystery why they had taken a liking to Virossa in his human form in the first place. I would have thought that was distorting their rules enough already. Was it because while on the verge of death, he relied on his swordsmanship rather than his magic? Actually, now that I think about it, I guess all the Swordmasters I knew in my previous life also awakened in a fight to the death...

“At any rate, Your Highness, even as weak as an individual human may appear, there are some among them who can use techniques like this. The same goes for the Fistmasters of the beastfolk. Never underestimate your enemy on the battlefield.”

“True enough. I’ve heard of plenty of demons dying to Swordmasters.”

Not quite as many as the number of Swordmasters I heard died to demons, though. I had studied the reports Sophia wrote for me diligently, so I knew quite a bit.

Those born with incredible talent, who then spent their entire lives honing their crafts, could someday reach that vaunted pinnacle. Even so, their prime would be short-lived—only about a decade or so—and their lives could be cut short at any moment on the battlefield, just like anyone else’s. In times of peace, they would have become legendary figures with huge followings, but in times of war, they were swallowed up and forgotten by the darkness of history.

“Maybe I should get your signature while I have the chance,” I blurted out, my head spinning with all this information.

“My signature?”

“Yeah. You’re a mage, yet mastered the weapon of another race so much as to become loved by the laws of nature. I’d be surprised if your name didn’t go down in history. A scrap of paper with your signature on it could become a family heirloom.”

Virossa began to chuckle. “Your Highness, I’m a spy, one who lurks in the shadows of history. Becoming famous would bring shame to my clan.”

I suppose that is true, I admitted with a wry smile. But Virossa, you really are a cut above. My peak as a hero in my past life wouldn’t even come close to you.

I was convinced there was a lot I could learn from him. The fact I had healed someone who was such a potent threat to the Alliance might have been a cause for grief...but I didn’t feel that in the slightest. All I had to do was profit from his help enough to make up for that!

“Master Zilbagias! Dinner is ready!” Garunya’s energetic voice called out from the center of the camp.

“I guess we should get something to eat. I’d love to continue this conversation after dinner.”

“It would be my honor, Your Highness.”

I needed to absorb every last bit of information I could from him while he was still my subordinate.

†††

Reading a book while stroking Liliana’s hair, I noticed the carriage start to slow down.

“Looks like we’re here,” Sophia said, clapping her own book shut.

Sticking my head out the window, I noticed the Corvut-built road had come to an end, turning into a dirt road leading into a poor-looking village. Apparently, we were closing in on the fortress where the goblin deserters had been last spotted.

The journey had been quite relaxing. I had spent most of my time either reading or learning magic from Sophia. The carriage shook so little I had no issues following the words on the page, and didn’t have to worry about motion sickness. Plus, thanks to Sophia’s help, I had learned how to make a soundproof barrier.

“Now you can work in secret and indulge in all sorts of indecencies to your heart’s content,” Ante commented.

Don’t put it like that. But it would without a doubt be an invaluable tool going forward.

While camping, in order to avoid getting rusty, I had continued practicing combat with Garunya and had been able to join Virossa in his training. On a particularly hot day, we had the opportunity to go swimming. The hunters had even taught me a few tricks while navigating through a forest, and I had had a chance to practice with a sword for a bit. It had been quite a fulfilling time.

“You seem quite talented, Your Highness. It is hard to believe this is your first time wielding a sword.” When I’d picked one up to mess around, Virossa had started praising me with an endlessly frustrated look on his face. “Were it not for your standing, I would very much like to have you train in earnest.”

I had tried to put up the charade of being mediocre, but a master like Virossa had been able to see completely through it. Of course, he had no way of coming to the conclusion I had learned swordsmanship on my own without formal training, so he assumed I was naturally gifted.

But given my status within the castle, devoting myself to swordsmanship was out of the question. So instead, while we trained, I used a spear and he used a sword. Our sparring was not far off from practical combat.

His strength was impressive. I needed magic to help close the gap; without it, he would have easily wiped the floor with me. I’d have loved to be able to match him with spearmanship alone, but who knew how many years of practice that would take.

“My sincere thanks for coming here in person, my prince.”

As our group approached the village an old beastfolk, who seemed to be the village chief, came out to greet us. He was a cat beastfolk, with a spotted design to his fur. It really gave me a new appreciation for the proud and proper history of Garunya’s tribe. It’s hard to put into words, but the villagers here seem like...mongrels?

They were all dressed in plain and simple clothes, which made them seem like they were hundreds of years behind the rural villages of the Alliance. Despite that, they seemed to be in good enough health, and their fur was in good shape. The entire village was surrounded by forest, and they had some sort of fields for crops. Apparently their primary source of food was hunting and not farming. And they seemingly had no issues feeding themselves by those means.

After spotting goblins at a nearby abandoned fortress though, they’d noticed that the amount of prey in the woods had dropped drastically since the area had been frequently ravaged.

“We figured it was almost certainly the work of the goblins. So, we sent some men to scout the fortress, but...” The chief’s face fell. Ten strong men from the village had been sent to evict the goblins, but not a single one had returned. Those whose patience ran out and went to check on them similarly disappeared.

The chief had then decided to utilize unified strength, taking a large group to confront the goblins...but I guess you’d call it his battle instinct? Having survived countless battles in his own right, he had been struck by a sense of uneasiness upon arriving at the fortress. Swiftly he had stopped the party in its tracks and ordered everyone to retreat back to the village.

“Perhaps this old body was just struck by the wind of cowardice. No excuse can possibly suffice. But I also take full responsibility. I beg of you, please deal mercifully with the people of this village!” he said, all but planting his face in the ground.

So that’s why everyone here looks so gloomy, huh? Hold up, I was sent here to deal with a few goblin deserters, but this seems a lot more complex. Does Prati realize what she signed me up for?

“The situation seems quite different from what I read in the reports...” Sophia said, eyes twitching. Hey, hey, no need to be so intimidating. Given how much this guy is shaking, his nerves are already shot.

“So basically, something weird is going on in the forest, and anyone who went to check out the fortress never returned?”

“I am ashamed to admit it, but that is the case.”

Huh. A group of ten well-built beastfolk men being wiped out is certainly odd. If there are enough goblins to handle them to ensure none escaped, kinda strange why there isn’t more damage to the village.

“Something seems off. Or do you think this is all part of the plan?” I asked Sophia. Battle is unorthodox by nature. I couldn’t rule out the possibility Prati had prepared this little surprise to test me as a part of my training.

“Well...I can’t say it would be uncharacteristic for my lady.” It seemed Sophia was a bit uneasy with the situation and it was hard not to feel the same way.

“Maybe she’s trying to see how I would respond to an unexpected situation?”

“I do not think it would be possible for my lady to arrange something this elaborate so easily.”

That’s the thing. The possibility this isn’t part of the exercise is still on the table. The chief was still watching us uneasily.

“Maybe there was a mix-up in the paperwork? Like we got sent to the wrong place?”

“That would certainly be in the realm of possibility if the paperwork was handled by those useless hobgoblins,” Sophia all but growled, pulling the paperwork out and rapidly scanning it. The gesture seemed pointless since I knew she would have memorized the whole thing. “Chief, what’s the name of this village?”

“Kakou Village.”

“Hmm. There shouldn’t be any other villages with the same name in the kingdom... Just in case, when was this village founded? What was the population last year?”

“U-Um...please hold on a minute...”

As the village chief started to falter under Sophia’s interrogation, Virossa came up and whispered beside me.

“The three of us are ready; just say the word.” Virossa, plus the two other night elf hunters. Even if we were just after some goblin deserters, their discipline remained stout, and they were fully armed and ready to act at any moment.

“Go scout the surrounding forest. Just getting a peek at the fortress should be good enough for now.” I grinned. “If there’s someone there, they’re my prey.”

“As you wish.” With an elegant bow, he and the other hunters melted into the darkness of the night. No sound of breathing, no sound of footsteps, not even the sound of clothes rustling. As much as it pains me to admit, this is exactly the kind of situation in which night elves excel.

“Now then...” I shifted my attention to the road we had arrived on. Prati said she had sent observers and an escort with me. Would they be Rage family warriors? If things went south, I could get one of the servants—I think Veene could use fire magic—to send a ball of fire into the sky. That was a potential way to communicate with them.

But considering the possibility remained that this was all part of the training, it would feel pathetic to call for help this early on. Our escort, the Rage family warriors, could begin to doubt my mettle. That would be a problem in and of itself.

“Oh, are you finally thinking of trying to actually become the Demon King?” Ante teased.

Not at all. If my mother’s family starts to question me, it could become a pain in the ass down the line. I didn’t mind making use of my connection to the Rage family, but if they started making light of me or even tried to make use of me, I’d get pretty frustrated.

On a small hill some distance from the village, the ruins of an old stone fortress stood against the night sky. We had no idea what was inside, but whatever it was, it was capable of taking down ten strong beastfolk men without letting a single one escape. Is it a fiend? Maybe an undead that just wandered here?

“Whatever it is, I imagine that Virossa can handle it himself,” Ante mused.

Honestly, I agreed.

After about thirty minutes, Virossa’s group returned.

“We neutralized a number of goblins lurking around the outskirts of the fortress. All of them seemed to be under the effects of some kind of charm or brainwashing.” After his unsettling statement, he paused for a moment. “As for the fortress itself...I can’t say for sure, but...” Virossa’s hesitation was very much unlike him. “I felt the presence of humans inside.”

What? We’re smack-dab in the center of the demonic kingdom. What the heck are humans doing here?

“What made you think that?” I asked.

“The weak magical presence was the initial indication, but primarily it was the footprints,” he answered honestly. “There were footprints around the fortress much different from the goblins’. They were barefoot, making no effort to hide their tracks. From the size, the width of the feet, and the shape of the toes, it’s most likely they are human.”

Elves had relatively narrow feet. Dwarves’ were considerably wider. Beastfolk rarely left full footprints. Humans and demons, aside from the presence or lack of horns, were built mostly the same, their feet being fairly average in size.

That meant these footprints had fallen into the average range. The fact they were walking around without footwear, and that their magical presence felt especially weak from outside, meant it was unlikely they were demons.

“So by process of elimination, humans are the most likely candidates, huh?”

For the time being, I took our small force, servants included, and the village chief to an area closer to the fortress. It was much bigger than it looked from afar. It could probably hold a garrison of close to five hundred. Some of the walls were in rough shape—scarred, cracked; one had even collapsed. They told the story of the harsh battles the fortress had weathered.

“From the smell and body heat, there’s probably a large number of goblins inside. But it’s quite quiet. They must be on guard,” Virossa whispered from behind me. “Even on military duty, it is hard to believe goblins can stay this quiet. While that’s bizarre, the goblins outside the fortress were acting just as strangely. That was why we came to the conclusion something must be influencing their behavior.”

“So you think there’s a mage inside the fortress?” I asked.

“Most likely. Though it is much weaker than a demon, it would be a mage of considerable power by human standards. I suppose they would be something close to this,” he said, dispersing just enough of his magical energy to imitate the strength of the person inside.

“You’re pretty good at that...”

Gauging someone’s magical energy was all about feeling, so it was really hard to put into words. This kind of demonstration easily got the point across. I was honestly really impressed. So the mage’s magical strength is above the average night elf’s and around the level of a weak devil. For a human, that’s pretty strong.

“Maybe an escaped slave?” I muttered, wracking my brain. If there really were humans with the guts to operate so deep in the demonic kingdom, I wanted to support them with all my heart. But I had too many “reliable” companions by my side, so I was restrained from acting recklessly.

“True enough. I am having difficulty thinking of an excuse to spare them,” Ante commented.

Right? As a demon prince, backing down here isn’t an option.

“Even for a runaway slave this seems like a stretch. Any slaves with magic potential are closely monitored. If one managed to slip away even with all those safeguards, it seems unlikely they would be so careless as to not hide their tracks,” Sophia pointed out. “Besides, if they were a fugitive, I would think they would’ve fled after the initial encounter with the beastfolk. It would be puzzling if they chose to stay in the fortress.”

“True enough. Garunya, have you noticed anything?” I turned to her, mostly on a whim.

“Huh? Um...my apologies, but not really...” Why are you asking me?! You have so many capable people here! was the clear meaning behind the expression on her face. By the way, she was currently carrying Liliana. Liliana was here to help in case anyone was injured, but she was pretty slow without hands and feet, therefore we had tasked Garunya with carrying her around. Garunya was pretty strong, so carrying the high elf was no problem for her. And regardless of how the maid herself felt about it, Liliana had clearly taken a liking to her.

“What do you think, Liliana?”

Liliana responded with a quiet whine, no doubt inspired by the fact we were all whispering. Unfortunately, she gave me nothing but a look of simple confusion. Meanwhile, the beastfolk village chief was watching her with utter bewilderment.

Guess there is no other option. “We have no idea who they are or what they’re up to, so we’re left with only one option: we must find out for ourselves.”

Everyone nodded. They were all calm, no sign of nerves among them. It seemed everyone had no reason to think a human mage and a band of goblins was much of a threat. The village chief who had once come here only to retreat seemed to be feeling a little ashamed of himself. Though considering beastfolk’s capability with magic was quite low, he had probably made the right choice.

“Everyone ready?” Attaching my obsidian knife to the end of one of my human bones, I reformed them into a spear. Everyone else, Garunya aside, began preparing their weapons. All the servants that accompanied me were trained combatants, more skilled than your average soldier.

“I will engage in this form,” Virossa said, transforming into a human and drawing his sword. So he is going Swordmaster mode, huh? Even though I felt like we’d be able to defeat whoever came out of the fortress, I still was saddened by the fact there would be no way to save whoever was inside. “So, how shall we attack, Your Highness?”