Chapter 1: Erina Reufelia
The smell of the battlefield hung in the air. With the city reduced to a smoldering mess, the scents of blood and iron hardly lingered. It was mostly the distinct aroma of trees, cloth, and coal burning. Despite it being past noon, the sky was darkened by the dark clouds blotting out the sun.
Both friend and foe lay dead by the dozens. The Empire had apparently withdrawn its army, and the sounds of combat were dying out. The Church’s soldiers cheered at having successfully defended the twelfth district, but judging by those lying dead on the ground, it was clear who was the true winner of this battle. Lyferia’s side was vastly inferior.
Using his ?Flight? magic, Diablo flew up to the Inner Sanctum.
This is what war means.
This wasn’t the first time Diablo had seen something like this. He’d fought off the Demon Lord’s Army in Zircon Tower, and took part in defending Faltra from the Demon Overlord’s invasion. But this was the first time he’d fought in a war between the races, and the unbearable sights filled Diablo with an intense feeling of disgust.
At the same time, he was also overcome with relief. Relief at not losing someone dear to him in this fierce battlefield. Rem was in his arms.
“...Thank you, Diablo,” she said.
“Hmph,” he replied curtly.
He had no idea how a Demon Lord was supposed to respond in this situation. By acting grandly, Diablo claimed to be a Demon Lord from another world. But the truth of the matter was that on the inside, he was a shut-in gamer crippled by a communication disorder. Before coming to this world, he couldn’t so much as hold a conversation with a girl, to say nothing of holding hands with one.
And while he did acknowledge that he’d gotten marginally better at speaking to people lately, he still had a long way to go. And yet, there he was, just a moment ago...
Diablo recalled the events that unfolded earlier. Rem was nearly abducted by the enemies. When he’d seen her, lying with her legs crushed, Diablo was shaken. Regret and wrath overcame him, and so, silencing his fear and own sense of morals, he launched offensive spell after offensive spell, killing the enemy to rescue Rem.
When the healing item he used completely reversed her wounds, he was on the verge of weeping with relief. The emotions rushed over him, and...
No, that’s just an excuse. I... I can’t believe it. I... !
A different kind of shock jolted Diablo’s mind.
I, I, I k-k-k-k-k-kissed her?!
Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time he’d kissed a girl. He’d been kissed soon after being summoned as part of the ?Enslavement Ritual?, and Rem and Shera had kissed him after he fought off the Demon Overlord Modinaram.
But this was the first time Diablo had ever initiated a kiss. They both sought each other out, and out of a wish to confirm each other’s presence, locked lips. Does such an act done between two lovers have a place in Diablo’s life? Was this some kind of mistake? But even as he asked himself that, some part of Diablo did note that they were far beyond just being lovers at this point. There was, after all, a ring on Diablo’s left hand.
A ?Marriage Ring?!
When he was playing Cross Reverie in his old life, he’d demolished any challenger that faced him wearing one of these rings with utter impunity. With all his might, and mercilessly enough to inflict trauma on them. Yet it all stemmed from envy.
Yeah. I was jealous!
He burned with maddening jealousy, and with the cold, calculated efficiency of a machine, he brought ruination upon them.
How does it feel now, normies?! Blow up and get the hell out of my game!
So he would shout at them. But right now, Diablo was agonized.
“Ugh... Am I the one who needs to blow up now...? No...”
“Are you all right, Diablo? Does it hurt anywhere?” Rem asked him in concern.
Diablo shook his head and managed to revert to his Demon Lord role play.
“It’s nothing! I just used some MP, is all... I’ll recover it later.”
He’d only experienced it since coming to this world, but MP wasn’t just magic points. It was his actual mental fortitude, and once he lost enough of it, he became emotionally feeble. Once, when he’d completely depleted his MP, he became so lethargic he slept entire days away. He had a large supply of potions prepared now, so that wasn’t a problem anymore.
So this current feeling of discomposure must have been because he’d lost quite a bit MP. Yes, that must be it, Diablo concluded. He couldn’t afford to stay restless. The war wasn’t over yet, and he stood to lose Rem if he didn’t emerge the victor. And not just her — Shera and his other comrades were in danger, too.
But most of all, he didn’t want this gruesome war to continue any longer. He couldn’t afford to be listless right now.
†
“Lord Diablo! I’m so glad you’re safe!”
In the ?Prayer Room of Fire?, located in the deepest part of the Inner Sanctum, the High Priest Lumachina rose from her chair and hurried over to Diablo. That wasn’t something that would normally happen, as she was the highest ranking member of clergy.
Standing in the room were the Paladin Tria and other high ranking priests, but despite Lumachina acting in a manner that went against tradition and social standing, no one blamed her for it.
“And you too, Miss Rem, I’m happy to see you’ve returned!” Lumachina told Rem.
“...I’m only here because Diablo was there to save me.” Rem nodded gently.
“Let me use a healing prayer on you.”
“...There’s no need for that. Diablo’s potion completely healed me,” Rem said, shaking her legs to illustrate.
Her legs were crushed by a Magimatic Sol, leaving her in a gruesome state, but now there wasn’t so much as a scratch on her legs. Her skin was sleek and healthy, and her tight muscles were well-toned. Diablo lowered her down onto the thick carpet.
“You should be healed anyway, just to be on the safe side,” Lumachina insisted.
“...There are people who are in much worse conditions.” Rem shook her head.
“It’s fine, Rem,” Lumachina told her soothingly. “We’re in the Inner Sanctum, the heart of the Church. We have many high ranking priests here, and I’ve been told we have enough healers to go around.”
“Really?”
“There’s something that concerns me. Could you please let me handle this?”
Despite being the highest official in the Church, Lumachina made her request politely and lowered her head. Rem shrunk back modestly, her tail drooping.
“...E-Erm, I’m sorry. Refusing a High Priest’s prayer... That was rude of me.”
“Do not worry about it. We needn’t mind trifling matters like this in such a time of crisis. Will you accept my prayer?”
“I will.”
“Then please lie down, Miss Rem. Close your eyes and relax yourself.”
“...Understood. But, give me just a moment first,” Rem’s black eyes turned to look at Diablo. “Diablo, could you stay by my side?”
“Mm?”
“...I’m sorry. This must sound childish. But when you’re standing away from me, it feels like you might leave... It makes me anxious.”
“Hmph. Such a ridiculous concern. The Empire’s army has retreated and shouldn’t launch another attack so soon. The Magimatic Sols cannot fight for long periods of time.”
“They can’t?”
“Mm. That was how the game mechanics worked... I mean, don’t concern yourself with trifling details! You have your body and your health to worry over. Know that no one may restrain me. I shall be where I wish to be!” he exclaimed with a strong tone.
Rem beamed happily.
“...All right. I’m relieved now.”
“Hmph!” Diablo flapped his cloak with grandiosity and turned, so as to hide the blush on his cheeks. “Lumachina, I leave her in your hands!”
“Yes, Lord Diablo.” Lumachina bowed her head devoutly.
Apparently Lumachina was still under the impression Diablo was God and needed to be worshiped. Even after he clearly and decisively denied it...
†
Diablo left the Prayer Room of Fire alone, when a high-pitched voice reached him from the other side of the corridor.
“Diiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaa...”
“Mm?”
“—bloooooooooooooooooooooooo!”
Just as that shout reached his ears, something soft rammed itself against his face.
“Mmmg?!”
He was shoved between two large, soft swellings. At this point, Diablo recognized who this was just by the sensation.
“Diabloooo, it was sooo scaaary!”
“Mmg, nng...!”
“There was this loud noise, like, booooom, baaaang, and it started shaking, like brrrrr!”
“Mmmg, nng...”
“Diablo?”
“Fha!” He finally managed to push away the softness bearing down on his face.
I almost choked in there!
“Whoa!” Shera let out a small, sweet screech.
The Elves were typically slender and thin, but despite that, Shera was endowed with a giant pair of breasts that kept shaking and jolting softly. On top of all that, Shera was incredibly beautiful. It wasn’t for nothing that Elves were considered the closest race to the Celestials. Despite working alongside her for quite some time now, Diablo couldn’t look her in the face without blushing.
But despite that, Shera peeked at his face curiously.
“What’s wrong, Diablo? Did something sad happen?”
“Ah... Ugh...”
“Yeah, you’re right... A lot of bad and sad things happened today. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help you at all...” Shera looked down sadly.
It was like seeing a flower wilt in the span of a second. Shera’s bright smile could light up any situation, but that only meant her frown made it feel as if the sun had suddenly gone dark. Diablo extended a hand to place it on her shoulder, but eventually was too shy to actually touch her and simply left it hanging.
“You should smile.”
“Huh?”
“If there’s anything you can do to help in this situation, it is to smile.”
“Mm... Like this?” Shera said, managing a crooked, pained smile.
No. Not like that. More, encouragingly...
Diablo felt pathetic. He couldn’t even manage to get a single girl to smile — a girl he’d given a wedding ring to, no less. Bringing a smile to a girl’s lips was so much more challenging than defeating a Magimatic Sol was.
Silence hung over them... But then an uncharacteristically bright voice sailed between the two of them.
“Oh, hiya, Diablo! Great work out there!”
“You did great, Boss!”
A pair of Grasswalkers tottered over down the hall. One of them was Sylvie, the Grandmaster of Faltra’s Adventurer’s Guild. The other was Horn, a thief aspiring to become a sorcerer. Both of them looked like little girls, and Horn was, in fact, thirteen years old. Diablo didn’t know Sylvie’s age, but she was apparently much older.
Grasswalkers were a race that had a rabbit’s ears and tail and retained a childish, youthful appearance even upon growing older. Sylvie motioned with her hand for Diablo to come closer, her ears swinging back and forth.
“The Church’s people made us food. Potions can heal your wounds and mend your bones, but you can’t work or fight on an empty stomach.”
Food, huh...?
“Right, right!” Shera raised both hands to the air. “That sounds tasty! Diablo, let’s go eat!”
Eating was indeed necessary. The fighting started in early dawn, and by now it was past noon.
I should eat now, when I still have the time.
“I saw you out there, Boss!” Horn said excitedly, swinging her clenched fists. “You were super strong!”
“Mm?”
“Your magic blasted that red giant from the Empire! I looked out just in time to see it!”
Diablo fell silent.
“And then you finished that white giant too, and saved Rem! Your magic is the best, Boss! I hope I can use something like that someday too...”
“Kuh...”
Diablo could remember it. The last words he heard coming from within ?Viatanos of the White?...
“Aaah, aaaaaaaaah... Nooo! It’s crushing me! It’s tearing me apart! Save meeee! Migurtha, Migurthaaaa! Airaaaaaaaa! Somebody, save meeeeeeeee!”
“Discard your unit, Rikka!”
“It won’t budge! It won’t open, it won’t... Aaaaaaaah... Mommy, big sister... Save me... Somebody, please save meeeeeeeeeeee!”
The scream lingered in his ears. Diablo felt something bubble up from the pit of his stomach.
“Ugh...”
If his stomach hadn’t been empty, he’d likely have thrown up. He silently swallowed the bitter, acidic gastric juices that rose up to his mouth and turned his back.
There were people riding it...
Magimatic Sols were manned weapons, and they weren’t monsters or evil villains inside. They were just his enemies. His opponents. That was all.
“Huh?” Horn asked. “Boss, where ya off to? The toilet?”
“Go ahead and eat without me.”
“Huh?! You’re not eating? But you haven’t eaten all morning...!”
But when Horn tried to go after him, she was stopped by — surprisingly enough — Shera.
“Diablo... If you feel hungry, come eat with us, okay?” she said with a sorrowful voice. “I’ll be waiting for you...”
As bad as he felt for what he was putting her through, he couldn’t suppress the urge to throw up. The thought of food was the last thing on his mind.
I’m not hungry...
He thought back to those words. The words he’d told his family in the old world when he shut himself off in his room.
†
Diablo walked down the corridor. Normally, Shera would follow behind him without saying a word, but right now there was no one there. She probably realized he wanted to be left alone. Or maybe the air he was giving off was simply that standoffish.
“Kuh...”
As socially inept as he was, he didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere for everyone else. If anything, it was exactly that dread of spoiling the mood that made him linger, choose his words all too cautiously and eventually say nothing. And then the guilt would make it hard to breathe, making his head spin all the more, before eventually he succumbed to outright panic...
No, no, no! I’m a Demon Lord now! In this world, I’m the Demon Lord Diablo! I’m a Demon Lord! A Demon Lord, a Demon Lord, a Demon Lord!
He chanted the words in his mind time and again, trying to lift himself up from those depressing thoughts. He felt as if Shera and the others had long since seen through his acting, but that didn’t matter.
“Ahahahahaha! I am a Demon Lord! Even if my sour attitude spoils the mood, I don’t give a damn! If anything, it’s obvious it would! That’s how it works! A Demon Lord being nice and friendly makes no sense!”
“Excuse me...?” someone suddenly called out to him from behind.
Aaaah?!
If Diablo could, he’d give himself a pat on the back for not exclaiming out loud. Nothing was more embarrassing than being caught talking to yourself. And so, while blushing profusely on the inside, Diablo made a menacing expression as he turned around.
“Fool! I should hope you’ve prepared yourself for the consequences of beckoning me...?!”
“M-My apologies!”
The first thing Diablo noticed was the blue armor. It was Tria, the Paladin. She was a truly pious woman who worked to save Lumachina when the Cardinal Authority was in control of the Church. She stood still, her back straight like an arrow, and her expression seemed nervous.
“P-Paladin Captain Diablo, I’d like to ask about what you said earlier!”
“Wh-What I said?!” He repeated her inquiry, a bit of a shiver in his voice.
He had to suppress the urge to squirm in place.
C’mon, let a guy talk to himself! Just pretend you didn’t hear that! If I don’t have my Demon Lord role play, I can’t keep my peace of mind intact!
As his internal self was moments away from bursting into frustrated tears, Diablo stiffened in place... But as it turned out, Tria was speaking of something else.
“I mean what you told Miss Rem.”
“Mm?”
“About the Gelmed Empire’s Magimatic Sols. I believe you mentioned something about them... I’d appreciate it if you could tell me in further detail.”
...So she wasn’t talking about how I was talking to myself!
Diablo regained his cool within moments and folded his arms grandly.
“Hmph... State your question. But you would do well not to disappoint me.”
“You said, ‘Magimatic Sols cannot fight for long periods of time.’ Is that true? If so, then we can safely order our troops to step down and rest.”
Oh, I see. Diablo thought to himself.
He had little experience in fighting wars. He’d played simulation games religiously, but had no knowledge of tactics. He never cared for military affairs or politics. Still, he could at least imagine that the Church’s soldiers were on high alert in anticipation of an attack from the Gelmed Empire.
The castle had fallen, after all, and the Empire’s army was just across the canal from them before. The bridges connecting to the other sectors were destroyed, but Magimatic Sols were capable of flight. They were understandably wary.
How do I explain it...?
In the smartphone simulation game Girl’s Arms, each unit had a stat called ET — Energy Time. It gradually depleted as long as the unit was deployed in combat, and using special abilities consumed further ET.
The Gelmed Empire were chasing Rem because she was the ‘Girl of the Vessel’ or something, and the Church’s soldiers and the Empire’s knights were clearly exhausted and on their last legs. But despite that, the Magimatic Sols retreated.
Based on that, Diablo concluded that Magimatic Sols were limited by ET in this world as well. But he couldn’t say, ‘That’s how the game mechanics worked, so they probably won’t show up again for a while!’ And trying to explain it to Tria likely wouldn’t convince her. There were too many lives riding on her shoulders.
“Heheheh...” Diablo cackled condescendingly. “Can you not tell when your opponent approaches their limits? They were greatly exhausted and needed rest.”
“M-My apologies, Paladin Captain! Your wisdom and experience humble me.” Tria bowed her head in awe.
Of course, Diablo couldn’t tell how much ET they had left or if they were even using ET to begin with just by fighting them, either. He was bluffing and lying through his teeth.
“Realizing that much just by observing the enemy’s movements is to be expected! Have your men rest. The Empire’s forces shouldn’t move for some time. Though even if they do try to force an attack, I will smite them myself!”
“Thank you very much, Paladin Captain! I will have the soldiers rest and only leave sentries!”
“Mm!”
That was what his usual Demon Lord role play was like, but his own words reminded him. A Magimatic Sol enveloped by flame... Its interior destroyed by his ?Burst Mine? spell. Tentacles writhing in pain. A charred Human figure... the remains of a girl.
“Ugh...” The urge to vomit rose up in him again.
“Paladin Captain?” Tria asked.
“...It’s nothing. Inform me at once should the enemy strike again.”
“Understood! Paladin Captain, thank you very much. We were in fact quite stumped. The prisoner would not tell us anything.”
Of course not. They probably captured an ordinary infantry soldier, who would know little about how Magimatic Sols worked.
“One of those armors’ pilots might know more about it,” Diablo said.
“Yes, that’s what I think, too... But she keeps her mouth shut.”
“Mm? Wait.” Diablo paused, realizing he’d just heard something strange.
“Huh?” Tria asked in confusion.
Diablo thought back to what she’d just said.
“...Hey. The prisoner’s just an ordinary soldier, right?”
“No, it’s the knight that rode the Magimatic Sol you destroyed, ?Burix of the Red?... Though I’m not sure if ‘knight’ and ‘ride’ are the right words to use here.”
No way!
“You mean... it’s Erina Reufelia?!”
“Ah, yes. I believe that’s who she identified as.” Tria nodded.
I thought I killed her!
But come to think of it, Diablo recalled that most of the pilots in Girls’ Arms weren’t human, but rather what one would usually call monster girls. And Erina’s race was...
“She’s a...” Diablo muttered.
“I suppose burning isn’t enough to kill a Vampire,” Tria concluded.
“Where is she?!” Diablo grabbed Tria by the shoulders. “I need to see her, now!”
“Haa?! She’s down at the surface, in a prison camp...”
†
The Inner Sanctum was located in the capital of Sevenwall’s twelfth district — at the heart of the Grand Cathedral. The Inner Sanctum was a hovering structure that floated high above the ground, said to have been built by God himself.
Apparently, it wasn’t that the Inner Sanctum was built in this Human city, but rather the city itself was built around it. The Inner Sanctum was the most holy, hallowed ground of the Church, and only a chosen few were allowed inside.
Diablo descended through the levitating corridor. It was an elevator of sorts, but the circular platform that descended and ascended from the ground to the Inner Sanctum had no walls. If a normal person were to fall into the shaft, they’d likely die. Diablo could use his flight magic to descend, but Tria couldn’t do the same, and so they slowly descended together down to the surface.
“Over here.” Tria guided him to the prison camp. Originally, the building served as an armory, and its stone walls looked quite sturdy. All of the weapons were vacated now, leaving the rooms open to hold prisoners. Standing before the iron door leading to one of the rooms was a pair of priests.
“Oh, Lady Paladin!”
“The prisoner hasn’t spoken yet.”
“That’s fine. The Paladin Captain wishes to see her. Could you let us in?”
“The Paladin Captain...?!”
“This man is the Paladin Captain?! Ah, understood!”
At Tria’s explanation, the priests opened the door. She remained behind in the corridor.
“Now then, Captain... While it may be presumptuous of me to say this, do keep in mind that Vampires are a race that employ many mysterious powers. Stay on your guard at all times.”
“Mm.” Diablo nodded and entered the prisoner’s room.
Inside, he found a girl fastened to the wall with chains. It was, without a doubt, Erina Reufelia. She wasn’t wearing any clothes, but it wasn’t that she was stripped naked, this was how she rode her Magimatic Sol. She had a modest chest and slender limbs, and her hair and eyes both had an angry red color.
Truth be told, Diablo didn’t know where to look. But a Demon Lord couldn’t be caught being embarrassed by the sight of a nude girl. That would be incredibly lame. Instead, Diablo narrowed his eyes to a squint, as if trying to focus on something from afar. It seemed as if he was glaring at Erina.
“You’re...!” she uttered in surprise, recognizing him.
“Heh... I thought I’d reduced you to ashes. Quite the tenacious one, aren’t you?” he remarked in a Demon Lord-ly manner.
The girl twitched in fear.
“Wh-What do you want, cretin...? Could you stop staring at me all strange like that?!”
Strange?
Diablo placed a hand over his mouth. Contrary to his overbearing tone, his face was seemingly contorted in a smile.
She’s alive...
He knew this did little to change things. The fact he’d killed her friend and tried to kill her... wouldn’t be wiped away by this. Nothing could change what happened.
But the truth was, he never wanted to kill them. Who would enjoy killing people they didn’t even hate?! They were alive!
Diablo’s field of vision clouded over. He’d moved his hands from his lips to cover his eyes.
“...Kuh.”
“Wh-What?”
“You’re... alive... Thank goodness...”
Diablo wiped his eyes while Erina watched him in confusion.
“You were the one who tried to kill me to begin with...”
Diablo said nothing.
“Were you coerced to fight, too?” Erina’s bitter expression, which seemed to hold contempt for the rest of the world, melted away, leaving an expression that befit a girl her age.
“What?!” Diablo exclaimed.
“You’re not...?”
“You were coerced into fighting in this war?!”
“Aah, erm...”
“You may tell me more.”
“Hmm? And if I tell you, will you save me from this place?”
“I might.”
“Ah?!” Erina let out a surprised cry.
Her shock was understandable. Diablo wasn’t joking, though. He got the feeling there were extenuating circumstances to consider here. He’d already gotten that creeping suspicion when he first fought them. This girl, and her friend Rikka who piloted Viatanos of the White, didn’t strike him as villains. If anything, they had the same outlook as Diablo. ‘I don’t want to kill or be killed.’ Diablo didn’t pretend to be some kind of pacifist, but he didn’t want to take a life if he could help it.
His resolve only extended that far.
And so, if the Gelmed Empire really was forcing those girls to fight, Diablo’s intuition made sense.
Erina fell silent. She was hesitating. And after glaring at Diablo for a long moment... She let out a long, despondent sigh.
“...Fine... I don’t care anymore. I’m done for either way...” Apparently she’d resigned herself and began speaking.
“My homeland was occupied by the Gelmed Empire. It was a small Human country, where my clan and I lived in hiding.”
“A Vampire clan?”
“I’m a half-Vampire. Our ancestral Vampires were wiped out, and their minions fled from Hunters to seek refuge in that country... Though that happened centuries ago.”
“Mm.”
“My comrades, who pilot the other Magimatic Sols, all come from similar backgrounds. Lady Aira, Lady Migurtha, Bakki, Saya, Toaha, Rikka...”
The mention of Rikka’s name sent a pang of pain through Diablo’s heart, but he couldn’t have afforded to spare her. He did it to save Rem, and didn’t regret what he did. He didn’t have the presence of mind to worry over the enemy’s well-being given the situation, but now that he knew that they were being compelled into fighting this war, the regret grew deeper. Would she have been saved if he could have simply handled the situation better? Would he have had another choice?
But while his regret weighed down on him, his anger toward the Gelmed Empire was just as intense.
“So they took your families hostage to force you all to fight?”
“Yes...”
“I don’t understand. I’m sure there’s plenty of soldiers who’d gladly pilot a Magimatic Sol and fight on the battlefield. Why would they go so far as to take hostages specifically to force you?”
Diablo couldn’t imagine Erina being an exemplary soldier.
“Aaaah?!” Erina seemed outraged by his implication. “As unwilling as I am to fight, I’ll have you know I’ve remained undefeated across many battlefields...!”
“You won not on the merit of your own strength,” Diablo chided her gravely. “Do not forget those victories are owed to the Magimatic Sol’s performance.”
“I-I know that!”
“Then why?”
“...Only compatible people may control a Magimatic Sol.”
“Compatible people...?”
Was there something about that in Girls’ Arms’ story? Diablo only played it for a short while, so he didn’t remember the background story that deeply.
Was it the “Chosen Pilots”...?
Diablo did remember something that seemed to fit the bill, but...
“Whoever is placed within a Magimatic Sol has their heart read by its interior.”
“Go on.”
“And if that reading does not satisfy the Magimatic Sol...”
“Mm?”
The chains clinked. Looking down, Diablo found the iron shackles binding Erina’s limbs had the holy mark etched onto them. Erina clenched her teeth, and then spat out the rest.
“Those who are found incompatible... are devoured by the Magimatic Sol.”
“Wh-What?!”
“And so the Empire’s army took our families hostage, placed enslavement spells on us, and threw us into Magimatic Sols... I know not how many people were tested, but... There’s no doubting that at least an entire town’s worth of people was likely consumed by those tests...” Crimson droplets rolled down Erina’s cheeks. Such was the color of a Vampire’s tears.
Diablo was speechless. He’d once imagined something — he’d appeared in this world in the form of his game character from Cross Reverie, but might there have been a chance he’d have appeared in the world of Girls’ Arms? And if so, would he have been these girls’ commander?
That’s absurd... They use experiments that might... no, that likely will kill their subjects, just to pick pilots?! And they take hostages to force them to do it?
“Unforgivable...!” Diablo clenched his fist angrily.
“Hii?!” Erina flinched in fear.
Diablo inadvertently allowed his magical energy to leak out again. That tended to happen when he lost his temper. Diablo took a deep breath to calm himself.
“...I’ll at least have them prepare you some clothes.”
He sympathized with Erina and her comrades, but the Church’s soldiers lost friends and families in the latest battle. They wouldn’t pardon an enemy soldier so easily, but he could at least give her some humane treatment.
“I don’t need any clothes.”
“What?”
“How I’m treated doesn’t matter, but I want to request something of you.”
“...Request something of me...?”
“Please, save Lady Aira and the others. That’s all I ask for. None of them wish to fight.”
“You ask me to save them, but...”
“The master of our enslavement spells and the one commanding the scouts holding our families hostage are one and the same — the commander of the invasion army! A man called Doriadanph! He’s a powerful Magimatic mage in the Gelmed Empire! If you can defeat him, just that one man...!”
Her request was easier said than done. Defeating an enemy army’s commander could overturn the tides of battle. That much was obvious, which meant the Empire would keep him well-guarded, so reaching him would be a challenging task.
What’s worse, Aira and the other pilots were currently on the enemy’s side. Magimatic Sols were individually powerful, and Diablo couldn’t hope to hold back if he aimed to defeat one. Not to mention the fact that, logically speaking, he had no reason to accept. However, his gamer’s instincts were steering him the other way.
The more challenging a quest is, the better!
“Ahahahaha!” Diablo laughed with bravado as he flapped his cloak. “You petition a Demon Lord for help? You are a curious one! But any who enact such inane cruelty before my eyes will be met with a death most painful! I shall teach that fool Doriadanph the terror of facing the one true Demon Lord!”
He spoke the emotions in his heart, punctuating them with his Demon Lord-ly attitude. Erina gulped... and then her eyes grew moist again. Red tears streaked down her cheeks one after another.
“Uuu... Aaaah... Aaaaaaah! Whaaaaaaaaaaa!” She broke into sobs.
The room’s door swung open loudly.
“Paladin Captain?!” Tria called out.
“Huh?! Oh, no... This is...”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Y-You’ll... defeat... h-him... You’ll... save Lady... Aira... Aaaaaaah!”
He was standing in front of a sobbing, howling naked girl with the wicked smile of a villain on his lips. Tria looked at him with conflicted eyes.
“E-Erm... Lady Lumachina has decreed that we are not to abuse any prisoners. So if you could, despite your station, abstain from torture...”
I, uh, I wasn’t torturing anyone!
But making excuses wouldn’t be the Demon Lord-ly thing to...
Diablo walked out into the corridor.
“Hmph! I’ve no more use for her. She gave me the information I wanted, so do what you will with her,” he said, and then turned to the priests. “Also, prepare her some clothes. She may be an enemy soldier and a Vampire, but she is still of the races. Or do you intend to oppose the High Priest’s wishes?!”
“By your order!”
Diablo was confident they would handle this matter well. Diablo then left the prison camp.
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