Living by Money
Each Demon King has an environment they prefer.
The Beast Demon King built his tower on a vast plain where beasts could run wild, the Adamantine Demon King in a gorge thick with boulders, and the Frost Demon King in the far north, where blizzards raged year-round.
And the Deceiver Demon King built his tower above a beautiful lake.
Waterfowl drifted overhead, fish broke the surface in glimmers, and at dawn a soft fog rolled in. By midday, sunlight shimmered across the ripples in breathtaking patterns.
The tower upon the lake perfectly suited his obsession with appearances—beauty, courtesy, and all things seen.
"What secret talk did you want to have so badly that you called me out so obviously?"
When he opened the door and stepped out onto the terrace, she was already there.
Frost Demon King, Reina Sordein. She turned her head away from the shimmering lake. Simply approaching her carried a faint chill.
"It isn't exactly a secret talk. Ever since I heard the rumor, I simply wished to speak with you."
"With me?"
"I heard you insulted the canon, so I expected you to look a bit more vicious. Yet you look… ordinary."
"Not ordinary. Handsome."
"…If that's what you choose to believe, then so be it."
Her silver-blue eyes fixed on Berze.
"I agree with you. Partly."
Then she dropped a bomb.
The completely unexpected remark made Berze lose his composure for a moment.
Had Reina ever said anything like this in his previous life? Never.
They'd barely had contact, and the few times they had met were unpleasant.
No—more than that, he had never imagined he would hear another Demon King admit that the canon was flawed.
"Are you serious?"
"Are you suggesting I cannot think such a thing while you can?"
"No. I'm just surprised to hear another Demon King say they dislike the canon."
"You're wrong."
Reina kindly corrected him.
"I 'partially' agree. I don't dislike the canon. In fact, I revere it. I believe it must be upheld."
"Like the other demons?"
"Like the other demons."
"That doesn't match up."
"I like the canon. There is nothing wrong with its tenets. However, depending on the environment and situation, I believe some changes are necessary."
He understood.
Reina was different from him—she didn't detest the canon itself. She was simply a realist, someone who accepted the world as it was and believed adaptation was necessary.
Still, the fact that a Demon King—raised on tales of the canon and the greatness of the First Demon Emperor—would arrive at such ideas without any special motivation was surprising.
"So you didn't call me here just to bad-mouth the canon. Is this a warning? Like that beastly brat, being all childish?"
"There is no Demon King in Arein who perfectly follows the canon as the canon demands. Do you know why?"
A non-sequitur. But Berze answered anyway.
"Because there are many heroes."
"And because for hundreds of years they've failed to conquer this land. They've grown used to Demon Kings—so used to them that we are no longer absolute. Heroes hunt Demon Kings now. If we follow the canon strictly, we won't survive."
That was why the Demon Kings of Arein twisted the canon within its broad limits—because that was how they survived.
"But… those fools are ashamed of it. They feel its necessity, yet hate to admit it. They loudly claim they follow the canon more faithfully than anyone and force others to do the same."
Reina found it disgusting.
Becoming a Demon King yet feeling shame for bending the canon. Always insisting they followed it perfectly.
Claiming Arein had no real problem—that everything would be solved once they became stronger.
"They don't understand that this is what's more shameful. So I wanted to see you. At least you seemed like someone I could talk to better than those idiots."
"And your impression?"
"I dislike that you hate the canon, but… I admit you're easier to talk to than those idiots."
"Thanks for the compliment."
"But you should be careful. You're too much of a rebel. Unlike Ugar, that beast doesn't just run his mouth."
"I'm aware."
He had already suffered once. That brute had become the Grand Duke of Alkaine's dog, delivering unreasonable orders and sending lackeys to watch him.
He'd issued warnings, but they went ignored. Hotenwalk was still swarming with watchers.
"So you came to tell me that?"
"I don't want someone I can actually talk to disappearing so soon."
"What about the Deceiver Demon King?"
"Him? You can't read him. Who knows what he's thinking or doing. He's better than those two idiots, though."
She shrugged. The conversation ended there.
"If you ever want advice, call me. As long as you don't insult the canon in front of me, I'll accommodate you."
"Sure."
He had nothing particular to ask, but forming a connection with Reina Sordein was something he'd wanted.
Among the four Demon Kings, she was the only one who could be described as 'somewhat trustworthy.'
"Here's my personal communication orb. But… is Hillen Cargill really wandering the mountains?"
"It's at least several weeks' journey."
"I see."
She didn't seem convinced, but she disappeared anyway. Berze toyed with the orb. It radiated a faint coldness.
After a moment, he returned to the main hall.
"…Where did everyone go?"
Of the five chairs, only one was still occupied.
"They all left."
Jayson, casually stirring his tea with a tiny spoon, greeted him.
"The Tower Conclave has ended."
"That was short."
"It wasn't an official Conclave. This one was more about welcoming you, Sir Berze. But since your relationship with the Demon Kings is… strained, there was no need to prolong it."
Berze sat silently across from him.
"Would you like tea?"
"I don't like human tea."
"It's elven."
"Same difference."
"It doesn't compare to what the Demon Realm offers, but Arein's tea has its own charm."
"It doesn't compare, so it's out."
"A discerning man, I see."
Jayson set down the spoon.
"Did your talk with Lady Reina go well?"
"Somewhat."
"I suppose you wouldn't answer even if I asked what you talked about?"
"…"
"I'm joking. I got a bit jealous. I want to become close with you too, Sir Berze."
Today, Berze was surprised twice.
"Why? I insulted the canon."
"Indeed. But Arein is a special dimension. A little flexibility is required. Besides, everyone insults the Demon Emperor when he isn't around."
"I did it in front of everyone."
"Which makes you the most dignified Demon King of them all."
He spoke without changing expression. The smile forming on his face was sly.
"That's different from what you said earlier."
"Well."
His eyes glimmered.
"Right now, it's just the two of us."
Though unnecessary, his voice dropped to a whisper.
"Don't you think we could become quite… close?"
And it was sweet.
"How was the meeting of the lieutenants?"
"Ah. Just ordinary."
Gordon couldn't bring himself to say the truth—that it had been entirely complaints about their lords, and that he'd provided most of them.
"And you, my lord?"
"Not bad."
He had gained two definite enemies and two uncertain allies.
Just making contact and exchanging friendly words made this Conclave worthwhile.
And then—
"We need to hurry. We must make use of the ones we captured."
The Demon Kings didn't believe Hillen was still wandering Ergest. Naturally so—a strong hero had come to conquer the tower.
Leaving him alone while emptying the tower defied their logic and Berze's.
They all pretended to accept it, but everyone knew better.
The question was—how long would that last?
He needed to eliminate suspicion before they uncovered the truth. Before they discovered he was using the hero inside the tower.
That wasn't merely bending the canon—it was a crime on another level entirely.
"How do you plan to use the ones you captured, my lord?"
"There's only one method for a Demon King to 'trust' a human."
"You intend to make them Black Knights and Black Sorcerers?"
Black Knights and Black Sorcerers were the classic, most reliable method.
You pawned the soul of a weak human overflowing with negative emotion, infused them with power, and used them as pawns.
With their soul seized, they could never betray the Demon King. They became loyal dogs who harmed their own kind, slowly corroding their race and driving blades into their backs.
That classic approach still existed—but in Arein, it had died out.
Because there were too many heroes.
And too many Demon Kings had been cut down by those heroes.
To the humans of Arein, Demon Kings were no longer absolute. There was no longer any reason for them to surrender their souls just to obey.
"But those ones are the exception."
The captives had no way out. If they wanted to live, they would have no choice but to become Berze's slaves.
It was the only escape.
"Are they worth it? The moment they use even a little power, they'll be discovered."
Black Sorcerers and Black Knights—humans who received demonic energy while keeping their human bodies—could use their human shells to slip past a hero's senses.
But only as long as the power was kept entirely hidden inside that shell.
"That's their business."
Of course, Berze didn't particularly care.
"And if you do that to the humans, what about the heroes?"
"Kill them all… except Hillen Cargill."
His hatred for heroes had carried over from his past life. It had only grown deeper and hotter.
Even so, he tolerated them—for Loger, and because Hillen Cargill was useful. His greatest revenge against the hero who had once toyed with him was to use a hero to overturn the continent.
Seen another way, he had no mercy to spare for those without value.
"The hero party was never here. They'll descend the mountain and live as usual."
Even if his reputation dropped a little, Hillen Cargill would recover quickly.
"Hopefully so, but… you can't make a hero into a Black Knight or Black Sorcerer. Shouldn't Hillen Cargill be killed too?"
"I'll use Armani's Orb."
Armani's Orb was an artifact from the Demon Realm. You could purchase it using demonic points, and it existed solely to control someone.
The moment it was swallowed, it melted and rooted itself in the host's brain.
Once the seal was engraved, the host could never disobey the master's orders. Their vision became shared, and they transmitted information.
"Do you think Hillen Cargill will swallow it on his own?"
Demons were practically specialized in magic that controlled the mind and soul—but heroes were different.
They were blessed by dimensional power and had high resistance to mental interference. To feed Armani's Orb to a hero, the hero had to voluntarily disable every mental defense and swallow it himself.
Otherwise, the orb would melt before it reached the brain.
But what hero would do something that foolish?
"That's why I need to talk to him."
Fortunately, Berze had already found a clue within Hillen's ramblings.
His lips were cracked. His throat was torn dry.
He stuck out his tongue to catch the droplets falling from above. They were filthy and foul, but they soothed his thirst a little.
His eyes blinked, now somewhat adjusted to the darkness.
'…Why am I still alive?'
Some Demon Kings captured princesses or princes as hostages to trade with kingdoms or heroes.
But there was no Demon King who spared a hero.
A hero was the enemy of a Demon King, and a Demon King was never merciful. A hero who failed and could not escape was destined for death.
And yet Hillen was alive.
'Everything about this is wrong.'
Why had a dwarf hero installed magic cannons for a Demon King?
Why was an elf acting as the Demon King's spy?
Why was a princess serving as the Demon King's subordinate?
Why was he not killed, but imprisoned?
Had pain not constantly reminded him this was real, Hillen would have thought it was a dream—and killed himself to wake up.
'What is the purpose?'
Keeping someone alive meant wanting something from them.
But what could a Demon King possibly want from a hero? And would a hero ever give it? Would it ever be worth more than simply killing him?
Hillen shook his head. No. No matter how long he thought, no such thing existed.
That was when the prison door opened.
It was not the elf who came at noon every day.
"…Demon King."
Berze surveyed Hillen's condition through the darkness. His cracked skin had no life. His hair was dry, and his strength was almost gone.
But his eyes had not died. Berze liked that.
"You seem to be living well enough."
"…Are your eyes rotten?"
"I'll let you live."
"…?"
"I'll free you—and everyone else imprisoned here. You never discovered the tower. And even if you failed, you will not be a hero who lost."
"Wait. Wait, wait."
Hillen couldn't understand a word the Demon King was saying.
"You'll free me? Me?"
"Is there another human here?"
"Did you take something? Are you high?"
"Unfortunately, no drug exists in Arein that could drive me mad. The Demon Realm is the same."
"So you just went insane on your own."
"Do you not want to live?"
Did he want to live? Of course. No one wanted to die. Hillen Cargill, more than anyone, was greedy and driven by instinct.
He wanted to live, gain fame, and enjoy wealth and luxury.
That was why being a hero suited him—and he had done well until now. If this damned Demon King hadn't used the princess, it would have stayed that way.
A moment of silence.
Hillen thought—and reached the truth.
Pahahahaha—
He burst into laughter. Even his cracked lungs hurt, but he couldn't stop.
"You're… trying to recruit me? A Demon King recruiting a hero? Really?"
"Many humans have sworn loyalty to us. Why should a hero be different?"
"It is different. Completely different!"
Demons and humans existed as opposing absolutes.
It wasn't like a war between kingdoms or even between races; it was a war of whether the world would be conquered or not.
Heroes were the vanguard of humanity. Demon Kings were the vanguard of the Demon Realm.
"It's not different. Regardless of what happens to the middle world, the dead have no voice and no future. What matters is whether you want to live or not."
"…."
He had a point.
"You want me to be your dog."
"Among humans, there's that saying—better to roll in dog dung and live than die honorably."
"You think I'd fall for that?"
"I sensed strong desires in you. Greed, ambition, and the will to survive. Right now, you don't want to die more than anyone. Am I wrong?"
Berze was sensitive to emotion. The intensity he had once felt from Hillen had not been all anger.
"You value your honor more than a hero's ideals. You place your desires first."
Hillen's despair wasn't from failing to slay the Demon King. It was the reputation he'd lose, the money he'd miss out on, and his desperate desire to live.
There was nothing in him about righteousness or frustration over failing to defeat evil.
'Which isn't unusual.'
Heroes here followed their desires. There was a reason merchants feared them.
"Your fame won't take too much damage since you weren't defeated by a Demon King. So what's left is money—and I'll cover that."
"…Huh?"
"I'll pay off all your debts."
No—that wasn't enough.
"And I'll fund everything you need in your hero life from now on. I'll be your sponsor. The great Demon King—I, Berze Deias."
So swear loyalty to me.
"Kuhuhu."
Hillen laughed.
It was so absurd he could only laugh.
A Demon King offering to be a hero's patron? When would he ever hear such madness again?
It was ridiculous—but he was curious how far this Demon King's nonsense would go.
"Oh? Really?"
So he decided to play along a little.
"My debt is ten thousand gold. And everything I'll need from now on? About a hundred thousand. Bring that. Then I'll be your dog."
"One hundred thousand gold?"
"Why? Too expensive? If you want to be my sponsor, you have to throw money around. If you think I'm lying, don't worry—you know heroes never break a promise."
He mocked the Demon King, expecting him to get angry and shout.
One hundred thousand gold—an impossible amount for a mere Demon King.
Hillen expected Berze to explode.
But—
"Wait. I'll bring it soon."
"Wait. I'll bring it soon."
He calmly stepped out of the prison.
"…Huh?"
"Demon King! A message from Demon King Berze!"
Draxon, who'd been buried in a giant monster taking a deep nap, opened his eyes.
"He wants to exchange demonic energy for human money."
"Ah. Come to think of it, he must've accumulated a lot of demonic points."
"But he requested one hundred thousand gold."
"…?"
Draxon sat up.
"One hundred thousand? Does he have enough demonic energy for that?"
"He said more will keep coming in, so he'll repay it gradually. He added that if necessary, he's willing to write a Demon Realm contract."
That meant he was serious. Demon Realm contracts forcibly bind demonic energy—they cannot be broken.
Breaking one would damage one's rank.
"What does he suddenly need one hundred thousand gold for?"
"I'll look into it."
"That can wait. How much do we have in storage?"
"Five thousand gold."
"That's far too little."
Every Demon King had their own way of acquiring money, but most had very little interest in human currency.
Thus, Draxon's profits came almost entirely from squeezing heroes and hero parties who challenged his tower.
Naturally, it wasn't much. Most heroes reached the midpoint, got scared, and retreated instead of climbing to the peak.
That part made him proud—his tower was well-designed—but that wasn't today's priority.
"…"
There was a mouth-watering mountain of demonic energy in front of him, but no way to acquire it.
"He'll repay slowly? Then tell him we'll pay slowly too. I'll figure out some way to gather the money."
One hundred thousand gold was enormous. But the amount of demonic energy he could gain in return was equally enormous.
Draxon refused to let this opportunity slip away.
"…To think I'd live to regret not having enough human money."
Was Berze crazy? No—what was crazy was Berze selling precious demonic energy for something as trivial as money.
"So you'll pay whenever you can, is that it?"
『Yes, that's correct. At the moment our Demon King does not have—』
"Then the deal ends here."
『Wait! Please, Demon King, wait!』
"Speak."
『There is no Demon King who can gather that amount right away. With a little time, we can certainly prepare it.』
"Unfortunately, I have no intention of waiting for that 'little' time."
『Demon King Draxon has many methods available! He can absolutely satisfy you!』
"Use those methods to get results, then contact me again."
Click—
Berze cut the communication unilaterally and infused new demonic energy into another orb.
This connection continued much longer.
If it were before, he might've waited for Draxon to prepare. But now, after the Tower Conclave, he had contact with other Demon Kings.
Not close. Not to the point of money-lending, either.
Still—
"I need money. Lend me some."
『...』
Berze didn't care in the slightest about appearing shameless.
A brief silence.
『This is interesting.』
『Draxon said the same words just moments ago.』
『Is there something I don't know about?』
"Ridiculous bastard. He must've planned to borrow from you and then lend it back to me."
『So that's what happened. May I at least ask why you suddenly need so much money?』
"Because I need it."
『If you don't want to explain, I'll ask something else. How much do you require? And what will you give in return?』
"One hundred thousand gold."
『Not a small sum.』
"And the payment is demonic energy."
『…Quite surprising, but you aren't playing a joke on me, are you? If so, I'd be quite disappointed.』
"Are we that close?"
『We're also not close enough for me to hand you one hundred thousand gold so easily.』
『Do you realize? One hundred thousand is almost everything I've saved.』
"You've saved a lot. And you were the one who wanted to get closer first."
『I'm thinking about it now, but I'm glad I said that.』
"Besides, no matter how much human money you have, it can't be called anything great."
『Not in the Demon Realm, no. But all value is relative.』
『Still, nothing is more valuable than demonic energy.』
He didn't need further thought. Since this was the hottest Demon King among humans at the moment, repayment wasn't a concern.
Jayson Corkmoond made the same decision Draxon had.
"A good deal."
『I should be the one saying that. And don't ask for it back later.』
Clatter—
Thud—
Thud—
Dozens of massive bundles were dropped in front of Hillen.
The Demon King personally untied them and revealed the contents. A mountain of gold. An unbelievable glittering mass of coins.
"I brought it. One hundred thousand gold."
The Demon King spoke.
"I'm buying you. From now on, you're mine."
The orb entered his mouth.
And Hillen Cargill swallowed it before he could even process it. No—he would have been unable to refuse even if he tried.
Because in exchange for the power bestowed by the dimensions, a hero's promises carry binding restrictions.
The moment the orb touched his tongue—
It was over.
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