I strode confidently toward the legion commanders' exclusive dining hall, dressed in neat black attire.
Every time I passed through the corridors, the soldiers who spotted me flinched, and the moment our eyes met, they bowed deeply as if they'd seen a monster that could turn them to stone.
At first, it had been burdensome and frightening, but now I was even grateful for it. You all look so damn scary. I'd run into one head-on by chance before, and back then, I really thought I was the one turning to stone.
Ignoring the pouring gazes, I stopped in front of a massive door. The guards standing watch jolted and snapped to attention.
"A-are you here to eat, sir?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Th-then we'll open the door."
The heavy door slid open smoothly, without even a single creak.
As I stepped inside, a hush fell over the bustling dining hall. Feeling all eyes turn to me at once, I screamed internally.
This is why I avoid coming to the dining hall!
The owners of those gazes were all legion commanders. The very ones who could sway the tide of battle single-handedly!
"...."
"...."
Wh-what do I do?
Stay calm, stay calm. F-first, get the food.
I forced myself to act nonchalant and took a step forward. With every step, persistent stares clung to me, but I pretended not to notice, fixing my eyes only on the chefs.
For some reason, the chefs seemed to move even faster.
Yeah, hurry up if you can.
Right now, just standing here under the legion commanders' scrutiny felt like torture.
"H-here's your food. E-eat well, sir."
Clatter clatter.
I glanced down at the violently shaking tray, then looked up at the chef.
You must be pretty nervous too. Well... with all these legion commanders gathered here, who wouldn't be?
I gave him a smile meant to convey encouragement and sympathy, but the clattering only grew louder.
At this rate, it might spill, so I reached out quickly to take it... oh no.
Splash!
...I lifted my hand too high.
I'd thought I'd be less tense than the chef in front of me, but apparently, I was just as wound up.
My hand had shot up too fast and too high, neatly knocking the tray into the air. The tray flipped in midair, scattering food everywhere before crashing noisily to the floor.
"...."
"...."
An even chillier silence descended than before.
I let out a short scream in my mind and swept a hand over my face.
Damn it, I'm screwed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Wicked. Truly wicked.
That was the thought on everyone's mind in the dining hall at that moment.
Demon Arut.
The one who slew the Last Hero, personally brought by the Demon King himself—a figure said to possess such overwhelming might that even the Demon King dared not touch him. The 0th Legion Commander of the Demon King's Army.
The legion commanders present could vouch for it: he was a terrifying man.
His usual mild demeanor? Let your guard down because of that, and you're done for. He simply flew into rage at different triggers than others.
Look at him now. Just recently, in contrast to sparing the gardener who let a carnivorous plant attack him due to poor maintenance, this time he'd knocked away a tray from a chef for the mere reason of trembling.
Still, this seems excessive compared to usual...
1st Legion Commander Jeikar quietly tapped his knife as he watched the scene unfold before him.
...Come to think of it, he set fire to the garden. If he went that far, he must have been seriously pissed.
His mind, spinning through various hypotheses, suddenly halted as it latched onto the most fitting one.
What if it wasn't forgiveness back then?
What if he'd merely held back from venting his full fury on the garden just to avoid reducing the Demon King's Castle manpower?
And that lingering anger was still boiling over now?
Poor chef. He just happened to be the punching bag.
Only then did Jeikar notice Demon's black attire. That was probably a silent warning: "I'm in a bad mood today—don't mess with me."
Jeikar kept his eyes fixed on them while slowly slicing his meat and putting it in his mouth.
He felt sorry for the chef, but sympathy aside, he had no intention of intervening. Risking his life to save one chef by clashing with the 0th Legion Commander would be a massive loss.
He had no desire to die pointlessly at an ally's hand instead of honorably on the battlefield, so Jeikar remained silent.
The other legion commanders were likely thinking the same. That's why everyone stayed quiet.
Demon's face had been stiff from the start. His blood-red eyes, darkly sunken, fixed on the chef.
He's definitely angry. If he doesn't grovel and beg right now...
"S-s-sorry!!"
As expected of a chef who's dealt with legion commanders. Quick on the uptake.
Jeikar speared some salad with his fork and subtly checked Demon's expression. The sunken gaze wavered.
"He's deliberating."
3rd Legion Commander Asild, seated nearby, murmured lowly. Jeikar nodded silently in agreement and watched the situation unfold.
What will he do?
He won't kill him. Normally, he goes out of his way to avoid taking lives.
Will he set another fire, or maybe just cripple him halfway?
Since Demon was so unpredictable, Jeikar's gaze clung tenaciously to his every move, unwilling to miss a thing.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Deon Hart, this life is ruined. That short sentence floated aimlessly in my head.
With my mind gone blank, I stared blankly at the chef trembling before me.
His face was even paler than mine.
Of course. The food he'd put so much care into had ended up as floor topping. He must be upset and angry, but since the culprit was a legion commander, he couldn't vent. He was trying to swallow his rage somehow, so I should apologize. Otherwise, who knows when or where he'd get revenge.
I moved to apologize, but the chef suddenly prostrated himself flat.
"S-s-sorry!!"
"!?"
What the hell is this?
The sudden attack threw me off balance for a moment. My eyes must have widened in shock.
I quickly composed myself and looked down at the chef with a bewildered expression.
"...Get up for now."
"I'm sorry! Please, have mercy!"
No, anyone looking at this would see me as the one at fault. Why is he acting like this?
"No need for mercy. Stand up."
"Eek!"
I'd spoken gently, saying it wasn't his fault, but that wasn't the reaction I'd expected.
He flattened himself even more... How do I fix this?
"As expected of Demon..."
"Living up to his name..."
And now they're all whispering.
Do they think I'm arrogant for a mere human? Suppressing my pounding heart, I turned around, and they all shut their mouths and averted their eyes. Definitely talking about me.
My image must be in the gutter now.
Well, it's already ruined. Falling further won't make it worse; rising back won't fix much either.
With that thought, my mind eased a bit.
I let out a light sigh with a resigned expression and looked at the still-prostrated chef.
"You should remake the food instead of doing this."
I'm fine, but what if the other legion commanders get mad? I'd heard they all had some twisted side to them.
Especially merciless toward subordinates...
"Y-yes, right away!"
As if he'd never been bowed down, the chef sprang up and dashed back to the kitchen.
I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and waited for the food to come out again.
Why close my eyes? Because otherwise, tears might fall.
Ah, life...
The food came sooner than expected. And it was handed over just as quickly.
The chef delivered it swiftly and bowed at a perfect right angle before scurrying back to the kitchen.
He was so fast that, if not for the food in my hands, I might've thought a gust of wind had passed.
Anyway, after all that hassle, I finally had my food and started walking.
The dining hall was unbelievably vast and full of seats, hard to believe it was just for thirteen legion commanders.
Thirteen rectangular tables, each seating twenty!
But considering the circumstances, it made sense.
Legion commanders all had strong personalities. Clashes weren't uncommon.
The Demon King had told me that once, when there was only one twenty-seater table, two feuding commanders flipped the whole place because they didn't want to share with "that bastard."
After that, they'd prepared twenty-seater tables equal to the number of commanders, so even if they all fought, it wouldn't cause issues...
So no one will sit near me.
With plenty of space, why would they choose my side?
That's why I'd come here. Otherwise, no matter how much they pushed, I'd have lain on the floor and begged to die instead.
In any case, I quietly slipped into a seat at the farthest end table. A spot no one would approach unless they had business with me—no line of sight, no footsteps headed there.
The moment I picked up my fork to finally eat in peace...
"Mind if I sit here?"
"...?!"
A demon approached.
Dark skin, long pointed ears proving he wasn't human, and a casual use of informal speech amid everyone else's honorifics.
Confirming all that, I clamped my mouth shut and swallowed the sigh threatening to escape.
The real power among all legion commanders. Unlike me, a figurehead, he was the official proxy for the Demon King—a true authority holder.
1st Legion Commander Jeikar stood there with a tray of dishes, asking permission for the seat beside me. He'd apparently come mid-meal; his plate had only half the food left.
He could've just finished at his spot, so why bother?
I wanted to refuse, but lacking any real excuse, I forced my stiff lips into a smile and nodded.
"It's an empty seat. No need to ask permission."
My response was neutral enough.
"Fair point."
He chuckled softly, set down his tray, pulled out the chair with a scrape, and sat.
I'd hoped he wouldn't, but he actually sat. What on earth does he want with me?
My already faint appetite vanished completely. I poked at my salad, suppressing endless sighs, when an unfamiliar yet vaguely familiar voice dropped from above.
"May I sit as well?"
I nearly dropped my fork. Speaking from behind—what happened to manners?
As my startled heart settled into anger, I turned to check—and froze solid.
A demon with horns on his temples and muscles at an inhuman, absurd level stared at me with an inscrutable expression, tray in hand with half-eaten food, eyes meeting mine as if urging a reply—just like Jeikar.
3rd Legion Commander Asild.
In this situation, my response was predetermined.
"...Yes, of course."
I'd told the 1st Legion Commander it was free to sit or not, so I couldn't refuse the 3rd.
With the front taken by Jeikar, Asild naturally sat beside me.
Suddenly boxed in front and side, I couldn't find where to look, so I bowed my head low to hide my trembling eyes and focused solely on my food. Of course, I just poked it with my fork.
3rd Legion Commander Asild... he was the Demon King's personal guard, right?
I recalled the info I'd memorized for survival.
The entire legion, commander included, wielded greatswords, annihilating foes with overwhelming power—that was the 3rd Legion. It was the one the Demon King called upon most for heavy-duty forces.
He could use the 1st Legion too, but moving it carried such weight that it was rare.
No wonder Jeikar served as the Demon King's proxy.
"...."
"...."
Ah, crap. Did I zone out too long?
The awkward silence prickled my skin, so I lifted my head slightly.
Intending to check if they looked annoyed or angry, I unfortunately locked eyes with Jeikar, who was watching me.
I couldn't look away and pondered how to react, but he seemed awkward too—glancing at his plate briefly before lifting his head straight and slowly speaking.
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