"Are you out of your mind?"
Bang! Bang! Bang—
The shockwaves—far too powerful to be from fists alone—blew Logar's hair wildly.
What should I do?
Logar weighed his options.Two futures awaited him:
Be remembered as a traitor to humanity for siding with the Demon Lord.
Or fall into the princess's hands and rot away as her slave for life.
The question of which was better was meaningless—both were the absolute worst.
But if he had to choose the lesser evil, it was the first.
He's a Demon Lord, but he's not as cruel as the rumors say.
Strange—certainly—but that strangeness had given Logar a sliver of hope.
The princess, on the other hand…
Her madness was notorious even within the kingdom.Her desire for good weapons, good artifacts—and her obsession with the craftsmen who made them—bordered on insanity.
If she catches me, she'll squeeze me dry.
The Demon Lord would work him hard too, but the scale was different.
And because Berze's identity as the Demon Lord wasn't revealed yet, Logar's crime was still mild—he was just a craftsman who ran away because he didn't want to make the princess's weapon.Not a traitor to humanity.
And more than anything else…
Logar touched the necklace around his neck.The moment he sided with the princess, he would die.The Demon Lord would never let him go alive.
Having resolved himself, Logar crawled toward the magi-device.
Even if I rush, it'll take over ten minutes…
He had to disconnect all the connections running along the workshop walls.
I can't take the whole structure. I'll just take the core and…
His hands moved rapidly.But without tools, his work was slow.
If only I had a sword or an axe…
As long as the core survived, it was fine.Whether he carefully separated the connections or chopped them all at once with an axe—the result was the same.
At that moment, he spotted the half-finished metal lump he'd been working on—the one that should have become a sword.
The problem was that it lay right in the middle of the battlefield between the Demon Lord and the princess.
Gulp—
If he went there, he'd be reduced to pulp and become Ro/Ger immediately.
"I need that sword! I need a blade!"
In the end, all he could do was beg.
Fortunately, the Demon Lord understood his shout.Unfortunately, so did the princess.
"You dare…?"
Their eyes locked.Both reached toward the blade at the same time.
The princess's hand closed around it first—But a kick flew toward her at that exact moment.
Thud—
She gasped.Even with the stunning impact, she refused to let go.That was her downfall.
Her opponent was the Demon Lord—A man who showed no mercy simply because his opponent was a princess.
Crunch—
His heel came down vertically.Bones snapped.A small scream escaped her as the unfinished blade flew out of her grasp, passed through the Demon Lord's hand, and landed in Logar's.
"Thank you!"
What followed was the best possible outcome for Berze—And the worst for the princess.
Her foolish obsession with the blade had caused her fingers to break absurdly easily, drastically weakening her.
From that moment, the fight became one-sided.
One-sided assault.One-sided defense.
The battle resembled their earlier clash, but the roles were reversed.
"...!"
Wounds began appearing on the princess's body, one after another.Faced with that lethal bloodlust, all she could do was resist and thrash.
Fortunately for her—that thrashing worked.
"Your Highness!"
"An enemy!"
Knights, alerted by the commotion, burst in with weapons drawn.
"It's done!"
Logar shouted at that perfect moment.Berze kicked the princess in the stomach, sending her flying back—And immediately afterward, the enormous magi-device vanished without a trace.
"Your Highness…! Your hand!"
"..."
The princess looked down at her fist—pathetically small, half-broken.
Unlike other dwarves, whose thick, rugged hands were built for smithing and battle, hers was tiny and delicate.
It hurt.But the physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation.
If only her hands weren't so small.If only they were big and strong like other dwarves'.
She would not have lost so easily.She would not have been broken so helplessly.
Her misdirected fury naturally landed on her knights.
"What were you doing?"
"…Our apologies."
"Why not come after I'm already dead?"
"…Our apologies."
"Does apologizing bring back my hand?Stop apologizing and go chase those bastards through that tunnel!Send word to the lord—order him to find them no matter what!"
"We obey!"
Several knights leapt into the tunnel.Messengers sprinted toward the lord's manor.
"…We're returning to the capital."
"Your Highness?"
"I must see Father."
It wasn't Logar who had injured her hand.But Logar's voice still rang clearly in her head:
— I need that blade!
If she hadn't been distracted by that damned sword—If she hadn't fixated on it—Her fingers wouldn't have broken so pathetically.
She wouldn't have been humiliated like this.
If only that damn Logar hadn't disappeared before finishing my weapon—
None of this would have happened.
The princess gritted her teeth.
"Logar Friedri dared defy and deceive this princess.He will pay the price."
"I will beg Father—to let me capture him personally."
I'll make him regret today for the rest of his life.
Without fail.
She swore it.
The dwarves' pursuit was relentless.
Surprisingly fast and efficient for people with such short legs.But their opponent was the Demon Lord.
A man whose stealth and concealment skills were among the finest in the world—skills polished specifically for kidnapping princes and princesses.
Tracking the Demon Lord in open terrain was impossible for them.
"…I really might never be able to return to the kingdom again."
Logar said tearfully.
"Your assumption is wrong.It's not that you won't return—you can't.If you did, you'd be thrown straight into the royal capital's underground prison.Execution is unlikely—you're too talented.They'd exploit you endlessly.A slave of the royal family… or maybe the personal slave of the Second Princess.You'd spend your entire life shut inside a workshop."
"..."
Logar's face went pale at the vivid image.
"D-Do you really think…?"
"It's certain.At least, for the Second Princess I know."
"You seem to know Her Highness very well."
"Not exactly 'well'—but well enough."
It was quite a persistent, twisted fate.
Heroes were warriors chosen directly by the dimension to fight off invaders—but not all strong fighters were Heroes.
A Hero was simply someone endowed with powers suited to fighting invaders.Not being a Hero did not necessarily mean being weaker than them.
There weren't many, but the Second Princess of the Dwarf Kingdom was one such person.
"Doesn't matter much, does it? I never let go of anything that ends up in my hands."
"...Y-Yes, of course."
And with that, the last flicker of hope the dwarf Hero had been clinging to was extinguished.
Three months had passed since the hero's journey had begun.
Hillen intentionally advanced north at a very slow pace, meeting as many people as possible along the way.
Their numbers grew.
Enemies did not appear.
On the surface, it was a peaceful hero's march.People scoffed that the Demon Lord was so afraid of Hillen's reputation that he wasn't even sending monsters.
But Granada realized that discord was beginning to form within the ranks.
"Dammit, what kind of hero's journey has no monsters at all?"
"Monsters? If an ogre showed up, hundreds would rush it and tear it apart! I only got a single fingernail!"
"And the strong ones take all the good parts anyway! Are we here to work for free?"
"Well… the feasts are nice, at least."
Because Hillen had been meeting local nobles and landowners—receiving hospitality and giving gifts—the tension was small.But to Granada, even small cracks meant something.
The Demon Lord's predictions weren't entirely wrong after all.
A Demon Lord who could think like this would surely develop even more refined schemes based on it.
Granada thought this as he took another drink.The current gathering was another feast hosted by a noble who had invited the Heroes.
They pretended it was natural hospitality for Heroes—but the real purpose was obvious:
A share of the treasure once the Demon Lord's Tower was conquered.
I wonder what they'll look like when they find out there's nothing there.
Granada smirked.
That was when Bark, thoroughly drunk, stumbled over to him.
"Captain, have you heard? There's a rumor going around about the Demon Lord."
"The Demon Lord?"
Granada's body stiffened for a moment.
Did someone find out I serve the Demon Lord…? Impossible.
The Demon Lord hid his identity with absolute thoroughness.As far as Granada knew, there was nothing that could expose them.
And indeed—his fears were unfounded.
"They say the Demon Lord who built the tower in Ergest can control fire."
"Fire?"
He could control it.Granada had personally witnessed the black flames.
But the Demon Lord had never revealed that ability in front of humans.
"Where did you hear that?"
"It's all over the noble circles. The rumor has spread to everyone participating in the hero's march. People are saying we need to prepare equipment for it."
"Equipment with fire resistance?"
"What else? With all the support from the Hildean Kingdom and the merchants, it's not like we can't afford it."
"The Demon Lord uses fire—are they sure? No one's even seen the Demon Lord. How do they know that?"
"That part, I'm not sure. I just heard it passed along. But a lot of people already take it as fact."
Granada propped his chin on his hand.
No matter how he thought about it—it was strange.
I should contact the Demon Lord.
Elves disliked it, but once they swore loyalty, they gave their best—even to an enemy.That was the way of elves.
"There's a rumor I control fire?"
Berze frowned.The report he heard the moment he returned to the Tower was far from pleasant.
He didn't bother asking how the rumor spread.
Humans certainly hadn't seen anything.
Anyone who could know was a fellow demon—and only one among them would maliciously spread such a rumor just to inconvenience him.
"That filthy beast. How dare he."
"There's no way it was just Demon Lord Draxon acting alone."
Gordon bit his lip.
The Beast Demon Lord was Archduke Alkaine's most loyal hound.If he made a move, it meant he acted under the orders—or at least the intentions—of his master.
Gordon recalled the moment before departing for Arein.
The Archduke had wished for Berze's death.The curse dripping with malice had already cast him aside.
Damn it… what did I do to deserve this…
Normally, a chief among the Demon Lords should rise in status.But he was plunging deeper and deeper into misfortune.
"What will you do? At this rate, the danger will grow…"
"I'll do nothing."
"…Pardon?"
"Forget fire resistance. You know what I'm planning to place on the first floor, don't you?"
"Ah."
Magic cannons and dwarven-made traps.Some spewed flames, yes—but only a few.
Come in with nothing but fire resistance and they'd be shredded into honeycombs.
"The mountains of Ergest are buried in snow year-round.Those fools will soon realize how pointless fire resistance is in such a place."
Weakened prey would be joyfully welcomed by the monsters.
Those who survived them would face the magic cannons and traps.
And those who surpassed even that—
"They'll meet the princess."
"You'll let Heroes meet the princess just like that?"
"Imagine a Hero who finally reaches her after all that struggle…only for the princess to stab him in the back."
Just imagining it made him shiver with anticipation.
"…Surely you don't mean to make the princess and the Heroes fight."
"..."
"With all due respect… are you insane?"
"You are being rude."
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : https://payhip.com/pokemon1920