Even in the mud, a flower blooms.
It had been about fifteen years since Bairif discovered the Hapstlein Gorge.
He had once been an ordinary mage, drifting from battlefield to battlefield. But one day, he inhaled the magi emanating from a monster he encountered—and became intoxicated by it, yearning to become a black magician.
It was luck that he found the Hapstlein Gorge during his mercenary days. Not only did the magi intoxicate him, he realized he actually had talent for it.
He settled in the heart of the magi and began his research. One by one, he corrupted the monsters and raised them as undead, forming a legion.
Although he couldn't recklessly leave the gorge due to the Empire's watchful eye, he endured, believing that one day he would reveal his power to the entire world.
But then—
But then, what was this?
"...Who… who are you?"
He knelt and pressed his head to the ground as he asked.
His voice trembled with tension and fear.
"Berze Deias."
"Berze Deias…?"
"You humans call me the Demon King of Blazing Ash."
"...The Demon King."
Why would a Demon King be here?
He had been intoxicated by magi—yes. He wished to become a black magician—yes.
But he had never once wished to become a servant of a Demon King.
That was exactly why he had come to the Hapstlein Gorge.
To find magi without a master, so he could become a black magician without serving a Demon King.
And indeed, he succeeded. He had come this far.
So why now—
"You really are a dim-witted little rat."
The Demon King sneered.
"You thought you could covet the Demon King's magi and hide it to the very end?"
"All magi moves according to my will. A worm like you has no right to covet it."
Wooooom—
The magi resonated.
A burning heat flooded from the hand resting atop Bairif's head.
The magi surged into him. Pain like a red-hot poker seared through him and he screamed.
The pain began at his head, traveled down his neck, and spread through his entire body. His heart throbbed violently. His bones—his very soul—felt as though they were being scraped away.
But even his thrashing was suppressed by the magi.
"Ahh…"
Bairif groaned. Even in the agony, he instinctively understood what the Demon King's magi was doing.
A Sigil of Subjugation.
A contract etched into the soul between Demon King and servant. A brand.
His soul howled. It lamented the future bearing down upon him and yearned for freedom.
"Among humans, you have a saying."
The Demon King whispered.
"If you give up, it's easier."
So accept it quietly. Submit.
His mind blanked. Bairif's vision blacked out.
***
Bairif walked across a plain.
Thousands, tens of thousands of undead legions followed him.
Beyond, the enemy waited.
War horns blared and banners fluttered.
Arrows rained down. The knightly orders charged.
Cavalry and infantry surged behind them.
Bairif laughed at them and issued his command.
The Death Knights—commanders of the Legion of Death—led the forces.
Dullahans and skeleton soldiers charged.
The lich unleashed death magic, and a massive ogre skeleton rampaged through human formations.
Humans fell by the hundreds.
Corpses piled into mountains; blood flowed into seas.
The once-green plains turned crimson, and even the sky darkened.
Terror-stricken humans fled.
The undead chased them to the ends of the earth, delivering death.
Among the humans dying like ants were mercenaries who had once insulted him.
There were plenty of scum who had stepped on him, calling him a worm.
They begged for mercy.
Pissing themselves, they kissed the top of Bairif's foot.
Kuhahahahah!
Bairif roared with laughter.
I am the great black magician, Bairif Crotinu!
Everything was perfect.
All persecution and humiliation were washed away in an instant.
And then—
A black shadow surged upward.
The red sky darkened into pitch black.
— How insolent.
The cold voice made his skin crawl. A chill ran down his spine.
— What punishment should a worm receive for coveting another's possession?
The black shadow constricted his entire body.
Bairif resisted—he tried to.
But he could do nothing.
— What are you doing?
A powerful force crushed him downward.
— Why are you not kneeling this instant?
KWA-AANG—
His knees slammed into the ground, completely against his will.
And then—
Darkness swallowed everything, and he could only stare blankly as the teeth and claws of his undead turned not toward fleeing humans—
but toward him.
Everything he had built in fifteen years—
Was disappearing.
'N… no…!'
His voice would not come out.
'No…!'
But even so, he screamed until his throat tore.
No!
Tears of blood streamed down his face.
"No—no!"
He jolted upright. The black shadow was gone. The oppressive invisible force was gone as well.
"It is possible."
Instead, the Demon King who had humiliated him was watching him, black eyes gleaming.
"You dream quite loudly."
"...De… Demon King…"
"You forgot the honorific."
"...my lord."
It wasn't his will.
The engraved subjugation forced reverence and worship from his mouth.
"...What did you do to me?"
"I only engraved what any black magician should naturally possess."
"A contract of the soul…"
"You used magi, so you must pay the price. Isn't that right?"
The reply was light, almost trivial—
yet Bairif had just lost something immeasurably vast.
His freedom.
The sole black magician who had not been bound to a Demon King was gone.
But he could not direct his fury at the Demon King. The Sigil of Subjugation prevented it.
Yet even if he could not express it, that boiling emotion did not disappear. The injustice made tears of blood fall.
"...It wasn't even yours, my lord."
"All magi is mine. If I call it mine, then it is mine."
"That kind of absurdity…! How did you even know I was here?"
"I know everything."
"I never submitted to any Demon King. I never entered a formal contract. How could you carve a sigil into me so easily?"
He forced out his resentment in the form of questions.
The task that would have been simple had he contracted with a Demon King—he had spent fifteen painstaking years avoiding that fate, only for everything to collapse in a single moment.
"The reason is simple."
Magi is ultimately the power of the Demon Realm. And a Demon King is no different from a dragon in the mid-realm.
They are beings utterly familiar with magi, wielding and manipulating it as instinctively as breathing. Reclaiming masterless magi from a mere human who borrowed control over it was too easy.
No matter how gifted a human—
No matter how great a black magician—
If the source of their power was magi, they could never surpass a Demon King.
"There is nothing I cannot do."
But Berze had no intention of answering him any more specifically.
And also the fact that it was an unclaimed, masterless power he could snatch up without belonging to anyone.
"Why are you throwing such a fit over a black magician becoming a servant of a Demon King? Don't whine over something that trivial."
"You're… what are you even… a Hero?"
Only then did Bairif realize the visitor wasn't just the Demon King.
Right. Thinking about it, the visitors were "the Demon King" and "the Hero."
An impossible combination.
"A Hero like me also serves the Demon King. Do you understand?"
"...What?"
"Is your comprehension really that lacking?"
"Isn't he just in shock? Not to brag, but among Heroes, I'm special. When someone hears the name Hillen Cargill, they drop dead in awe."
"And you seem to have forgotten that I was the one who made that 'specialness' for you."
"Details, my lord, details."
"If killing a Demon King is a 'detail,' then nothing in this world is impressive."
As the comedic bickering between Demon King and Hero continued, Bairif's mind went completely blank.
'A Hero serving a Demon King?'
'The Demon King helping the Hero kill another Demon King?'
'Hillen Cargill?'
'Don't tell me… the Hero who killed two Demon Kings?'
'And that man serves a Demon King?'
Is this real?
Everything he believed in crumbled. His cognition cracked.
After a long moment, he barely managed to organize his thoughts.
"So… you're really Hillen Cargill?"
"That's correct."
"The Hero who killed two Demon Kings…"
"That would be me."
Bairif had been trapped in the gorge for years, but he wasn't completely ignorant of the outside world. Occasionally, he kidnapped mercenaries and knights who wandered into the gorge, extracted every bit of information from them, and then turned them into undead.
"And you serve the Demon King of Blazing Ash?"
"That's correct."
"That makes no sense!"
"The world is full of things far more nonsensical than you imagine. Did you think you'd suddenly become the Demon King's servant in a single day?"
"...That's…"
"Even I, despite being a Hero, never imagined I would become a subordinate of a Demon King. But here I am, and there's no turning back. We're in the same boat."
"..."
It was absurd, but he couldn't argue.
Head bowed, Bairif turned toward Berze.
"Why did you take me as a servant?"
"Is it strange for a Demon King to need a black magician?"
"What do you intend to do with me?"
"You give up quickly, don't you? I intend to leave you alone."
"...Leave me alone?"
"Yes. Leave you alone."
Berze shrugged.
"You want to lead your undead legion and prove your strength, don't you? Isn't that your greatest desire?"
"...How did you—?"
"There is nothing I don't know."
Humans who sell their souls to a Demon King usually pursue two things: vengeance and power.
For Bairif, it was both—but the latter was stronger.
Before the regression, the reason Bairif had risen up was to prove his legion was stronger than the Empire itself.
He failed, got dragged around by the royal family as a spectacle, and died—but yes, he was a crazy bastard.
"There's a saying among humans: 'If you can't avoid it, enjoy it.' The sigil is already carved, and you are my servant. Instead, I will prepare the perfect grand stage for your talents. How about it?"
"...Truly?"
"The royals will soon swarm the gorge to claim glory for succession to the throne. Don't you want to slaughter them all? It is the perfect battlefield to show everyone the greatness of your legion."
"...That is…"
He wanted it.
A human who gains power wants to use it. And Bairif's desire was overflowing. It had been building for fifteen years.
"But if the Empire takes it seriously…"
"Are you afraid?"
"...Of course not."
He was. He wanted to test the greatness of what he created, but he also cherished his life.
"I swear by the First Demon Emperor and by the True Law itself—I will preserve your life. With your life intact, you can always challenge them again. Doesn't that give you enough leeway to try once?"
"...So the Demon King wishes me to attack the Empire."
"And if I do?"
"I will do it."
If it were any other vow, perhaps—but a vow upon the First Demon Emperor and the True Law was worth more than death to a demon.
"In that case, may I request one more thing?"
"Speak."
"Since things have come this far… please grant me power."
"Power?"
"I understand all black magicians and black knights receive power from the demon they are contracted with. Before the contract, that may not apply, but now that we are bound, there's no reason to refuse. And if you, my lord, give me power, I can destroy the Empire more perfectly!"
The confusion in his eyes twisted into madness as the conversation progressed.
'Hmm…'
Berze tapped his fingers.
Granting power itself was easy. That power was delivered through the Tower and consumed magi points, but for the perfect stage, the cost was acceptable.
The issue was that a black magician empowered by a Demon King would manifest the traits of that Demon King.
If Bairif spewed black flames, the Empire would immediately associate it with Berze.
And what then?
"The choice is not yours."
Of course the consequences would be the worst possible. It was a foolish request, one that should never be granted.
"But…"
"I said no. As long as you're within the Empire, I will not grant you my power."
Berze pulled three vials of contaminated elixir from his subspace and tossed them to him.
"Take these instead."
Half-corrupted mana was more suitable for a human like Bairif than pure magi.
"Th-thank you!"
"And this."
"A communication orb?"
"Yes. Keep it with you. When I call, answer immediately."
"Yes, my lord."
"I will soon arrange for the royals to attack the gorge. Prepare yourself."
"Yes! I will do my utmost to be worthy of these gifts!"
Bairif nodded vigorously, completely captivated by the three Ergest-grade elixirs.
"Oh, and we need some evidence to lure them in…"
"What kind of evidence?"
"To bring the royals here, we need bait that will attract them. Yes… that one will do."
Berze's gaze landed somewhere.
The dullahan who met the Demon King's eyes flinched violently.
***
"I have a question."
After staring at Berze carrying the dullahan's head for a long time, Hillen finally spoke.
"Don't."
"Are you deliberately recruiting lunatics? Or do you simply have a talent for picking up crazed people one by one? Wanting to prove he's stronger than the Empire? He's a complete maniac."
"I said don't."
"I'm just too curious."
"Do you not realize you're one of them?"
"Even in the mud, a flower blooms."
"You're calling yourself the flower?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. I am the great Hero who slew two Demon Kings, after all."
"At the very least, among all of them, none are as obsessed with fame as you."
The Demon King and the Hero continued heading toward the Imperial Capital.
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