I stare into the window frame of the barracks and peer inside. The thin cloth of necromancy that covered us changed shape with a swoosh.

　Inside were a hundred or so demons and an even greater number of humans. The human form was not that of a soldier or mercenary. They were probably just villagers. They were probably just villagers who had been kidnapped from the surrounding villages.

　The evidence of this is that they still have a look of fear on their faces. If they were originally from King's Landing, they wouldn't look like that. They have a look of resignation on their faces that is much deeper than fear.

　To demons, humans are food and slaves. I'm sure they think of new humans as nothing more than fresh tools. The expression of the demons was an endlessly hateful smile.

　But that expression is hard now. Their sludge-like voices are subdued. There is only one reason for this.

"No need to be so formal. Just be the way you've always been. You'll get tired if you push yourself.

　Majin. Drigman the controller. There was a man there who was the embodiment of shivering, glaring at the demons. Clench your teeth forcibly. If I didn't, the roots of my teeth would clench together and make a loud noise.

　The mercenary city of Belle Fain. The puppet city of Philos. There, he came face to face with a beast, a wraith, a being close to a demon. Even then, I think I was afraid, but not to this extent.

　What I have in my heart now is a definite fear.

　There was a strange tension and excitement. My eyelids blinked busily and my throat swallowed saliva. At the same time my forehead was sweating, one of my hands was naturally on the sword.

　Can you kill it? Can you kill it?

　Can you kill it?" The mage put his hands over his long ears and muttered lightly.

"So this is the Harvest. What about the one I was talking about. Did you find it?

　Drigman said, looking at the crowd of humans and the money and goods that had been gathered. They must have eaten up the lord's house. There's more than just a few villages, even candlesticks and silver plates packed into a few boxes.

　It would be expensive, yes. But it doesn't look like the kind of thing a mage would want. No, rather, what is it that they want? Is it human flesh and blood or something?

　I narrow my gaze as I look. My chest is hot. I felt like I was breathing directly into my airway. Then, I suddenly looked at the other three. I wondered if they were getting frightened as well.

　So I twisted my eyes wide.

　Kalia, Fialat, and Erdis. All three of them looked nervous, almost afraid.

　But they were not frightened. No one's face was pale. Bite your teeth harder.

　Oh, God, I hate it. That's tough.

　Every one of them seems even fiercer than the one I once saw. The heroes I longed for and envied so much. That radiance is right there.

　Elddis, when she was in the tower, still had a mentality that could be seen as weakness. Now she behaves like this in front of a demon. Now that she's a queen, she seems to think she no longer has any weaknesses.

　I had mixed feelings in my heart like a tangled thread.

　How could they be so serious in front of that thing? How could they keep a straight face? How can they look at a demon that is undeniably evil and not be frightened?

　Is that a quality of a hero? So do I have it or not?

　I exhaled three times to quiet my emotions. Then I inhaled hard. Stop breathing.

　In the silence, with only the sound of his heart beating, he simply looked at the witch in front of him. I swallowed all my smallness and pettiness.

　What should I do? In my thoughts, I was remembering the time when I once visited this place.


　◇ ◇ ◇ ◇


　Majin-sama. Drigman was beginning to get used to being called that. Even in ancient times, there were people who used such words. He hadn't paid much attention to it, but it was back in the days when the word demon was still a term of respect.



　While keeping an eye on the demon beasts and demons that are hanging their heads, they lightly take what they have acquired from their surroundings.

　Silverware, coins made of gold and silver. Carvings of some kind of worship. A ring caught his eye for a moment, but it was not what he wanted. I gave the Verg a look and told him to distribute them as he saw fit.

　The gold and silver work that humans have created is coveted by monsters and demons alike. They want to show that they are more powerful by dressing themselves up.

　Drigman didn't see that as a bad thing. In fact, it's a good thing.

　If you live only to live, you're no better than a beast. It's living for something other than life, whether it's money or selfishness, that makes a life shine. That's what Drigman believes.

　In spite of being called a control freak, lust, emotion, and even a strong ego are objects of affirmation for Drigman.

　He even believes that a demon standing at the top of all species must be so.

　His generosity is rarely extended to non-Demons, though.

"I'm sorry. What you want may take a little longer. After all, some demons don't understand the value of gold.

　The Varg says with a small clop of his hoof. A race like his needs to move their legs a little to feel comfortable. Drigman smiled at his words. It was a smile with a hint of fondness. The evil look on his face wavered slightly.

　Certainly, I want to retrieve what I want as soon as possible. The magic tool that was given to him by Lord Zebraeliris and made him control humans. The very thing that had been snatched from her fingers by Althea in the past.

　When I think of the reckoning of the past, I want to search for it day and night. But it would be wrong to force my subordinates to do so.

　Besides, the spell is cursed. No matter the time or place, the curse will never change. It will always return to you in the end.

"Thank you for your trouble, Verg. Don't be so formal. You can make it a little easier.

　The Verg suddenly saw Drigman's relaxed smile and thought, "He can look like that. In response to this, the Völg opened his mouth as if to make a joke with a human face.

"But, Master Controller. We've been taught since we were children that if we angered the demon lord, our bodies would disappear. We even walk with smaller hooves.

　Verg said and lightly raised his hoof. It was probably a poor joke in his stiff way. Drigman laughed aloud, revealing a small set of teeth. The surrounding hexenbiests and demons began to laugh as well.

　They were beginning to understand the nature of their superiors.

　Drigman said to the soldiers in the room, biting into them.

You were born in an undeniably unfortunate time. Althea, the human hero, is still breathing, and Zebreylith, the spirit god, remains asleep. Demonic prosperity is now a thing of the distant past, and we are now an exiled people.

　Everyone raised their hot eyes and looked at their master. They all held up their hot eyes and looked at their master.

"Then let's get them back. "Then let's go get it back. We'll take the best from the worst. Tens of thousands of happy lives behind us. We're on the cusp of history.

　A quiet but strong voice. Monsters and demons had no boundaries here and now. There was only a scorching breath. The Verg's hooves clacked.

　Someone began to drink and nibble on meat. There was nothing but excitement and exuberance. The only ones who couldn't take the momentum were the herd of humans who had been taken prisoner.

　Suddenly, someone asks. What should we do with the humans? Can we distribute them as we see fit?

　As slaves, or as livestock to be managed, or as food. That's what I mean. Drigman looks the humans in the eye and says.

"Yes. The eyes are still alive. We'd better put it to food. Verg, make the arrangements.

　It was a matter-of-fact tone. There was no sense of taking life for granted. Taking life for granted, that's what he said.

　A sobbing scream escaped from the humans. They no longer understood that their lives were in the hands of the demons, and that they were about to be lost. As I walked through the city, I saw many screaming humans being dismembered.

　The hands of the demons were closing in on the skulls of the humans.

　That tragedy was going to happen to us too, and the prospect of death appeared in their eyes. At that moment...

　A flash of light flicked the demon's hand away. A few strands of white hair bounced around the barracks.