Chapter 4: Visiting One’s Homeland
Two days later—
After the ritual magic had ended, they all fell into a deep sleep, so they only left the next day. Sylvie currently held the reins, and Shera was next to her on the driver’s seat, functioning as guide. Their carriage left Blackwood behind and made way to the forest that functioned as the Elves’ sovereign kingdom—Greenwood.
There were three benches in the carriage, including the driver’s seat. Diablo sat on the second one, with Rem seated next to him.
All they did was pray, but the ritual magic seemed to have depleted Rem’s HP and MP, leaving her languid. She held a sphere tinged with magical energy in her hand, transparent like a glass orb with a black flame flickering within.
The remnants of the Demon Lord Krebskulm were sealed inside this orb—the ?Divinity Crystal?. Rem had been looking at it time and time again since yesterday.
After the ritual, Diablo touched Rem’s body and traced the flow of her magical energy, and, indeed, the Demon Lord’s remnants were gone. They’d successfully passed the seal into the Divinity Crystal.
In the past, the only way to keep Krebskulm in check was to seal him inside a Pantherian girl... But now it was different. Perhaps because all that remained of it were remnants, or perhaps because research into magic had advanced since then, or maybe God’s power had grown... Diablo didn’t really understand the logic behind it. He was capable of casting advanced spells, but that was because of his level in the game. He didn’t have any systematic knowledge about magic.
“Ohohoh...” a feminine voice spoke behind him. “Not to worry, my dear, the ritual magic was successful. You can trust me, yes?”
Rafflesia spoke with a gentle smile on her lips. She was seated on the third bench, alongside Rose. Diablo didn’t expect her to join them, but she tagged along to ensure the promise regarding their share of the forest was kept. Surprisingly enough, she also came alone.
“...I do not suspect you, nor am I worried...” Rem whispered, her gaze fixed on the object in her hands. “But when I think ‘It’s all over now’... I still can’t quite believe it. This thing has dominated my lineage’s lives for so long...”
“I see. But you won’t truly be free so long as you hold onto that Divinity Crystal, no? You could have entrusted it to our village.”
“...I appreciate your offer...but even if these are just remnants of one, this is still a Demon Lord. I would feel safer with it in my care instead of leaving it with someone else. Diablo is by my side after all.”
Rem turned her gaze to him. Such an expression of trust made Diablo feel oddly embarrassed, and he shifted his gaze away.
“Even if Krebskulm were to fully awaken, he would be no match for me.”
“Hehe... Yes, perhaps. Thanks to your... No, thanks to Shera and everyone’s support too... I’ve been set free. I can’t express how thankful I am... Really...thank you.”
Rem snuggled up to him, her head resting against his upper arm with a thud. Her cats ears made it feel like a cat had rubbed against him, begging to be pet.
Diablo reached out and pet her head. Rem’s thin, soft hair was very pleasant to the touch. Not resisting his touch, and rather seeming even more exhausted, Rem pressed her body even closer against his.
“...Nnn...” Rem closed her eyes as she snuggled him.
Diablo turned to look at the back seat, only to be met with Sylvie grinning happily at him. Rafflesia took out a small harp and began strutting it, playing a soft tune.
The world was kind to them in that moment. Diablo thought it would be good if times like these could last forever.
Rose alone sat there as still and expressionless as a statue, as if she’d run out of magical energy.
At noon—
They’d arrived at a certain village. It was an ordinary Human settlement, but they could see some Pantherians and Grasswalkers as well.
“Everyone, take your luggage and get off. We’ll have to leave the carriage here if we’re going into the forest,” Sylvie explained. “It’s not Blackwood, so we won’t have to worry too much about poisonous plants, but we should watch out for wild beasts.”
It seemed you couldn’t enter the Kingdom of Greenwood with a carriage. They’d have to walk the rest of the way from this neighboring village.
As Diablo pulled down the luggage, Sylvie walked up to him.
“Can I have a minute, Diablo?”
“What is it?”
“I think I should head back to Faltra right now. I completed my quest for Celes, and we solved Rem’s problem too.”
“But you didn’t do a thing.”
“Ahaha... That stings, Diablo. But you’re right... This party will do fine even without me. And I certainly can’t leave Faltra unguarded for much longer.”
“Hmph.”
There was a chance the resurrected Demon Lord’s troops were on the march. Even with the governor’s forces stationed there, the Adventurers would be crucial forces, and, as the guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild, Sylvie needed to be there to unify them.
“And, well, here’s my real question: Will you be coming back to Faltra after you’re done taking care of things in Greenwood?”
“Those are my plans for now, yes.”
Klem was still in Faltra too. Even if he didn’t say anything, Rem and Shera would probably insist on going back.
Sylvie’s expression softened. “That’s great! I’m not exaggerating when I say the fate of the races rests on whether your party is present on the front lines or not.”
“I’m not doing this for the races. I’ve simply grown used to that inn. That’s all.”
“Hehe... Mei from the ?Peace of Mind Inn? will be happy to hear that. All right then, I’m off!”
Sylvie left Shera with some words of consolation, bid farewell to Rem and Rose, and, after a short exchange with Rafflesia, left the party. Saying goodbye was a bit lonely, but if all went according to plan, they’d meet her again soon enough back in Faltra. As she said, the Demon Lord’s army may launch an invasion soon, and Diablo and his group would have to help defend the city.
—A Demon Lord Subjugation, huh...?
It reminded him of Cross Reverie’s time-limited raid events. All players would fight the Demon Lord, and each victory would deplete an overall gauge, whittling it down over a limited period of time. During the first ever Demon Lord Subjugation quest however, the players beat it much faster than the admins expected. They’d defeated a boss that was supposed to span two weeks in half a day... So the next day it revived, stronger than before.
Those were the times...
“Does something concern Master?” Rose asked.
“No... You and I aren’t originally from this world. Rem and Shera summoned me here...but I doubt those two would have enough power to pull the ?Demon Lord’s Labyrinth? over from that side.”
“All is as Master says.”
“So I’ve been wondering if some transcendental presence’s power is at play here. I do not know who that could be...but maybe this was their purpose in bringing me here...”
“What does Master mean by ‘this’?”
“Like Sylvie said, Lyferia doesn’t have the strength to defend the races from the awakened Demon Lord. But with you and me on their side...and the equipment in my treasure vault, they’d be able to match the Fallen... No, they would be able to completely turn the tide of battle.”
“All is as Master says. Master would not falter even in the face of an awakened Demon Lord.”
—I doubt he’d be such a simple opponent to beat...
It took Diablo quite a bit of luck to solo a Demon Lord back in Cross Reverie, and when Krebskulm had rampaged in Faltra, it was only partially resurrected. He’d never fought a complete Demon Lord in this world, so conceit could very well spell doom for him. Yet Diablo simply nodded in a composed fashion.
“Of course I won’t. I am the one true Demon Lord after all.”
“Of course!” Rose nodded with sparkling eyes.
†
They advanced into the forest. Compared to the woods near Faltra, Greenwood was much denser. The weeds reached up to their knees, and since the grass hid the ground under their feet, they found themselves tripping over the uneven footing.
Their current party consisted of the five of them: Shera at the lead, followed by Diablo, Rem and Rafflesia, and Rose standing in the rear of the line.
“C’mon, guys.” Shera turned to face them. “It’ll be dark if we don’t hurry.”
“...We’re in a deep forest right now. We can’t walk as fast as an Elf,” Rem rebutted.
“I picked a route that’s pretty easy to walk through though.”
“...Kuh... If we were on a plain, I’d have left you behind before you knew it...”
—Hey now, no leaving anyone behind...
“We’ve been walking for a while now. Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Diablo asked, concerned.
“Don’t worry, this place is like my backyard.”
As she made that rash statement, Shera kept walking while looking at them, her back facing the direction she was going.
In Cross Reverie, the walking animation was the same regardless of the terrain you were on, but in practice, they were now advancing at half their normal pace. Diablo was fine thanks to his level 150 body, but if he were in his real body, he wouldn’t be able to take another step right now. The terrain was that difficult.
—Hmm? Wait a sec...
He made progress in-game like it was nothing, but being aware of how hard it should be made it all the more difficult.
He recalled the time when he’d mixed potions. When he focused on something else, his hands recalled the feel of being a skilled ?Combiner? and did the job before he knew it. At the time, he was distracted by Shera’s breasts as she leaned over and managed to mix potions that way. But now Shera was a few steps ahead, so gazing at her fixedly was hard. He considered distracting himself by looking at Rem, who was walking alongside him, but right as he thought that, someone spoke to him from beyond.
“Watch yourselves, you two. There’s a bump on the road ahead.”
“Hmm.”
Diablo turned around, his gaze meeting Rafflesia, the Dark Elf. As you’d expect from a race that lived in a forest, she seemed perfectly composed, and the two enormous spheres on her chest stuck out proudly. With each step, the two extra-large, Demon-Lord-class mammaries jiggled visibly.
—Holy hell!
He couldn’t help but stare, and as he did, he wasn’t concentrating on his legs. Diablo’s footwork and posture shifted, becoming as skilled as an Elf’s, but the moment he noticed, his focus returned to his feet and he almost tripped.
“This is harder than I imagined...”
“My, is something the matter?”
“No, nothing...”
“Ohohoh... When you stare at me like that, it’s rather embarrassing, yes? Ah, or could it be...”
“Aaah?!” Diablo panicked, thinking she may have realized he was ogling her mega boobs.
“Are you trying to mimic Elven footwork, Diablo? The way you moved just now was done quite well.”
“A-Ah, yes...”
Rafflesia walked alongside him. When he looked at her breasts from so close, their massive pressure felt all the greater.
Boing, boing...
Since he’d already seen her naked before, he could imagine what she looked like under her outfit. Diablo could tell his pulse was skyrocketing.
“You can tell the ground’s location and direction from the undergrowth. The leaves’ thickness and the way they bend show you the way.” She was demonstrating what she meant.
“Ah... Right...”
“Raising your legs too slowly can tire you, so just pass the leaves with your fingertips... Oh, I see you can do it even without me teaching you. Very good.”
“Mmm? A-Aaah, yes... Of course! I am a Demon Lord after all!”
Taking Rafflesia’s advice, Rem’s steps hastened as well. Rose also maintained a stable pace, even though she wasn’t as agile as an Elf in this terrain. They upped their pace, but Shera’s back kept appearing and disappearing between the trees. She was going a bit too fast.
—Can’t blame her though.
The news of her father’s death disturbed her enough to make her develop a fever. She probably really wanted to go back home instead of going to Blackwood first.
Rem grimaced. “I understand how she feels, but it’ll be a problem if we get separated. We should call her back.”
“I know the way to the Kingdom of Greenwood as well,” Rafflesia spoke up.
“Oh, you do... That’s quite helpful.”
“At this pace, we should be there in half an hour or so.”
“Ugh...” Rem looked up at the sky. “A half hour...”
Meanwhile, Diablo had gotten the hang of it. Well, not the hang of walking through the forest, per say...but he’d burned the image of those bouncing breasts to the back of his mind and happily looked back on it. This advanced technique allowed him to hold that image while ignoring what was actually in front of him, and his gait improved while he wasn’t aware of it.
Diablo noted that he’d conquered yet another challenge this world presented before him.
“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
It had come from up ahead.
“Shera?!”
Diablo’s thoughts snapped away from his footwork. Any thoughts of the terrain were blown away, and Diablo rushed onward as if running on a plain. Sprinting through the trees like a gust of wind, he reached the place the scream had originated from.
†
—She’s gone?!
“What’s going on, where’s Shera...?!”
“Di-Diablooo!” a voice rang out from above.
Diablo looked up; Shera was suspended high in the air, held by vine-creeper-like tendrils. It bound her limbs and crawled all over her, as if trying to ascertain the curvature of her body. It looked like vines, but its movements were like a snake’s.
Diablo then noticed a writhing mass hiding behind the foliage. It was a green, orb-like creature, large enough to fit a person inside it. The tentacles that grew out of it looked similar to plant-like vines which it extended to support itself along the nearby trees. It had also evidently used them to capture Shera.
A section of its front ripped open, revealing a huge eyeball that glared at Diablo.
“That’s an ?Herbductor?!”
It was a plant-like monster that was categorized as a wild beast. It was out of reach of swords and had high magic resistance. It would hide itself behind tree leaves and launch surprise attacks with its tentacles. It was easy to defeat with a bow, but their designated archer, Shera, was currently bound by said creature.
Diablo clicked his tongue. “I can’t believe you let a level 50 monster get the drop on you.”
However good its resistance was, a powerful enough spell would still destroy it. But it may use Shera as a shield, and Diablo had to be careful not to hit her.
He could hear footsteps approaching from behind, probably belonging to Rem, Rose, and Rafflesia.
—Should I let Rose handle this?
She was capable of jumping those ten meters into the air, and could easily defeat a monster with low defense. However, the Herbductor’s behavior was different from its in-game patterns.
Using its tentacles to swing from tree to tree, it attempted to escape, taking Shera along.
“Kyaaa—nnng?!”
Shera tried screaming, but it stuck a thick tentacle in her mouth. At this rate, it would easily abduct her.
Diablo took off after them; there was no time to wait for Rem and the others.
—Yeah, it obviously never did that in Cross Reverie!
To think it tried running off after kidnapping one of his party members!
If a party member died, they could be resurrected with magic (though that wouldn’t work in this world), and petrification and paralysis could be dispelled. But if someone were abducted, there was no continuing the adventure. It would defeat the whole purpose of the game.
“Kuh... This pest is quick too!”
It coiled its tentacles to stick to the treetops, then pulled itself up. Repeating that process made it move faster than Diablo, who was running at full force. Thankfully, visibility wasn’t an issue in this forest, and if he didn’t have to be careful about hitting Shera he’d simply blast it away with magic...or simply use a Haste-type spell to finish the matter. But Diablo had the ?Demon Lord’s Ring? equipped which would reflect and render any enchantment he’d attempt to put on himself useless.
“Nnn... Uuu... Nn!” Shera twisted her body, moans escaping from her gagged mouth.
The tentacles crawling over her body began reaching under her clothes. Shera was wearing a native Elven outfit, which just barely contained her breasts and clung to her body tightly. With the thick tentacles burrowing inside them, the outfit’s strings were on the verge of tearing. The chest portion alone came undone with a tearing sound.
“Nnnnnnnnnnnn?!”
Her breasts were exposed to the air. Shera tried reaching for an arrow from her quiver, but being a monster that lived in a forest inhabited by Elves, the Herbductor recognized bows and arrows as weapons. It had dumped the whole quiver away.
The giant eyeball fixed its gaze on Shera’s body, seemingly interested in her decidedly un-Elf-like characteristics. There was no telling what a monster was thinking, but several tentacles swarmed over her breasts. Shera intended to hide her chest with her hands, but the tentacles bound her arms.
“Uuu...”
The tips of the monster’s vine-like tentacles were shaped like brushes, running over Shera’s skin as if caressing her.
“Fwa?!”
Being stimulated in a delicate spot, Shera’s voice became sweeter. The tentacles brushed over Shera’s armpits as if trying to tickle her, then bounced her breasts left and right once...then once more. Due to having been fondled, her tips became sensitive, and several tentacles climbed up the mountain of her bosom. A sense of dread mixed with curiosity filled Shera’s heart when she considered what would happen if they were to touch her after they made her this stimulated.
But then the tentacles stopped, a fingertip’s breadth away from the summit.
“Uuu...uuu... Uuuh...?”
Relief that they stopped, along with a sense of dread at the monster’s odd actions and the throbbing of her tips... Those emotions mixed in Shera’s heart. It was only then she realized it had stopped because its attention turned elsewhere.
Many more tentacles than the ones that stimulated her breasts swarmed toward her lower half, coiling around her thighs and creeping up to her crotch. They rubbed against the backs of her knees, making a numbing sensation rush up her spine.
“Anh...”
If she didn’t have a tentacle filling her mouth, her voice may have been much louder. The tip of that thick tentacle shrunk, and it explored the inside of Shera’s mouth. It rubbed against the gums of her teeth, coiled around her neck, and advanced deeper into her throat. Down at the lower half of her body, the tentacles began creeping into her underwear—
Unable to speak, Shera screamed silently.
—Not theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere!
Tears began welling up in her eyes, the transparent droplets flying into the air.
Quickly catching up to them, Diablo made sure to stop the incident.
“?Heaven’s Fall?!”
Many giant rocks began raining down from the sky. The Tonnerre Empereur multiplied the level 100 attack spell, dropping a barrage of rocks onto the area. But the spell’s range didn’t include the Herbductor; rather, it was meant to destroy all the trees surrounding the monster.
“You’ve had your fill, haven’t you, you random mook?” Diablo glared at his opponent.
In the game, spells didn’t affect the terrain and their animations were only for show, but that wasn’t the case in this world. If the enemy used the trees to get away, all Diablo had to do was destroy the surroundings.
Sensing the gap in strength between itself and Diablo, the Herbductor brandished Shera like a shield. It crept away, slithering through the fallen trees in an attempt to reach out to a tree outside of the spell’s area of effect...
But Diablo could see through its actions.
“Crush everything along with this pathetic creature! ?Lightning Arrow?!”
Diablo launched several bullets of light that flew in the monster’s direction, navigating them so they avoided Shera and hit the center of the monster’s body.
“Hiya?!” The tentacles binding her slackened, dropping Shera down on the ground.
Getting caught by such a weak monster was a major miss, but Shera’s skills were still fundamentally quite high. Twisting her body as she fell, she landed successfully on her feet.
There was nothing more to worry about, it seemed, so Diablo continued blasting the monster with magic.
“How about you have a taste of your own medicine—?Demon Squeeze?!”
Black ivy vines wrapped around the Herbductor’s circular body. It was a level 120 darkness element spell, the improved version of ?Dark Press?. Black ivy vines would wrap up the target, strangling and crushing it. The target would also be inflicted with the ?Bind? status ailment which used pressure to inflict damage.
But this spell was excessively strong for an already damaged level 50 monster. As soon as the spell began to squeeze it, the Herbductor exploded with a loud popping sound. If he was still in the game, this would be where victory fanfare began playing, but its perhaps unworthy replacement was Shera’s wail as she ran toward him.
“Whoooooooooa, Diablooo!”
“You let down your guard, you bloody fool... Sylvie even told us to watch ourselves!”
“I’m sorryyyyyyy!”
“Well... Wait, Shera, don’t!”
She latched onto him with her chest still exposed, making Diablo stiffen in another variation of the Bind status.
“Aaah... Err...”
“Whoooa, Diablooo... I was scaaared...”
“Yeah, err... Are you unharmed?”
“I’m OK... But I was so surprised! I thought I was going to become that monster’s wife!”
“This is no time for jests.”
“Hehe... Thank you for always saving me.” She hugged him tightly.
Would it be appropriate to hug her back now? But she was essentially naked...which made Diablo settle with placing his hand on Shera’s shoulder.
†
“Ah, I see it! That’s the Kingdom of Greenwood!” Shera called out in elation.
Greenwood’s national flag was tied to a tree, and despite there being no buildings in sight, it seemed they had indeed made it.
Two hours had passed since the battle, with Shera having obviously fixed her disheveled clothes since. Adventurers were the sort to carry sewing tools with them, in case something were to happen.
“I can’t believe you would get lost in your own forest...”
“It’s not my fault... I know the forest around here pretty well, but you went and messed the whole place up...”
After chasing the Herbductor, Diablo had cast the Heaven’s Fall spell that pulverized the trees it used to move around. But that resulted in them losing any perception of where they were. Regrouping with Rem became difficult too, so Diablo and Shera made their way to the Kingdom of Greenwood on their own.
“Do you think Rem and the others will be OK?”
“They should be fine. Rafflesia said she knew the way, so they may have even reached the place before we did.”
“That’s true...” Shera suddenly moved her gaze up. “Ah... Someone’s coming.”
“Mmm?”
Diablo braced himself in case it was another enemy, and, before long, several figures jumped down from the tree branches. It was a group of six Elves; namely, it was a group of elite soldiers Diablo had encountered once before. They all carried bows on their backs and wore tight green clothes, and their facial features were so fair one could easily confuse them for women, despite them all being men.
“Huh...? Could it be you, Princess Shera!?” The young man standing at the front of the group raised his voice in surprise.
“Whoa, it’s you guys! It’s been so long!” Shera waved both hands enthusiastically. It was likely the most easygoing homecoming of a royal heir the world had ever known.
“Princess Shera!” The Elven youth fell to his knees. “You’ve done well to return to us!”
“Yeah, things have gotten really bad, haven’t they... I’m sorry for taking so long.”
“Don’t be absurd, m’lady!”
“Oh, and this here’s Diablo.”
“I am already acquainted with him... We crossed paths once at Faltra’s Eastern Lakefront.”
“Oh, right...”
Prince Keera had tried to abduct Shera once before, and these Elves served as his bodyguards at the time. Shera was in captivity back then, so she wasn’t there to see the battle that ensued. That said, having these Elves know Diablo’s power and position saved him some trouble.
“I thank you for defending our princess back then,” the young man said.
“Are you sure you should be thanking me? Wouldn’t you think I stole Shera away from Prince Keera?”
“We are in no position to criticize the prince’s actions. However, you fought to protect us from the governor of Faltra. No words of gratitude would suffice to express how grateful we are to you.”
“Hmph... Galford merely challenged me, so I pushed him back. I will not spare mercy on any who dare oppose me.”
Shera chimed in from the side, mouthing an unneeded, “He’s just shy!”
One hour later—
Led by the elites, Diablo and Shera entered the Kingdom of Greenwood.
“Ohhh...”
Diablo couldn’t hold back a breath of amazement. The place was simply that impressive. Cross Reverie’s graphics were gorgeous, but seeing the place with his own eyes made it all the more stunning.
Several trees, much larger than the other ones in the forest, stood there, with scaffolding set up between them. The Elves used thick branches as rooms and leaves as their carpets. Some were playing musical instruments, some reading books, others simply chatting...
Whenever they became hungry, they would extend their hands and fruits would grow out of the trees. The Elves subsisted mostly on fruit, and while some did hunt for sport and eat meat on occasion, they mostly seemed to prize the bones, as they could be used for art.
It was a perfect paradise.
“Everyone looks depressed,” Shera whispered, eyeing the Elven Kingdom.
—What? This is them being depressed?
Diablo couldn’t see this as anything but a convenient shut-in’s life.
The Elf elites nodded. “Yes... Since His Majesty’s passing, the flowers’ colors have waned, the instruments’ music has grown hollow, and the butterflies flap their wings without vigor. But your return will surely restore everyone’s spirits, Princess Shera.”
“I hope so.”
“Will you be going on yet another adventure?”
“Yep!” Shera broke the hard news to them as if it were nothing.
“We can discuss this later on...” the elites said with nervous voices. “For the time being, let us head to Her Majesty’s side.”
“Is Mother OK?”
“Her Majesty was the most stricken by His Majesty’s passing, I’m afraid. Please, do try to comfort her.”
“I see...”
She then asked the Elven scouts about Rem and the others. The scouts had detected them, but it’d still take some time for them to arrive. Shera asked the elites to aid them, as they may have gotten lost in the forest. Rafflesia said she could guide them there, but if they ran into trouble...? Diablo was concerned, but...he simply decided to leave the search to the Elves, who were more familiar with this forest, and meet the queen first.
Shera headed to a particularly tall tree and Diablo followed in her tracks. But the soldiers guarding the king’s chambers stood in their way.
“Hold. Only Elves are allowed to enter beyond here—so has been decided by God in the age of myth.”
“Oh, right, there was a story like that, wasn’t there... Isn’t there some trial? To prove who this land’s greatest archer is.”
It was part of Cross Reverie’s main story. After beating the trial, you would receive the quest to save the kidnapped queen from the Fallen, though the Fallen was pretty weak.
The Elven guards flinched, as they, too, apparently knew of Diablo’s power.
“N-No, there is no trial...”
“Then do not get in my way, you mere attendants. Do so, and I will reduce your country to nothing but scorched earth!”
“Uuu...” Horror overtook their expressions.
—There, there it is! That’s how people should react to Demon Lord role play!
Rem and Shera had gotten too used to him lately, and would maintain their cool even if he tried to speak menacingly. Not that he wanted to threaten them in particular, but still...if he was acting as a “menacing Demon Lord,” having some “terrified people” on board would be nice from time to time. It wasn’t really role play unless you got the proper reaction after all.
“Heheheh...”
Shera rushed on ahead and waved her hands in his direction. “Over here, Diablo, hurry! Come on, come on!”
“H-Hey... Don’t just ruin the atmosphere like that...” Diablo mumbled in complaint as he took off after her.
†
There were footholds built around the large tree, with a width of a mere thirty centimeters. In the game, they were wider, so you wouldn’t fall even if you had a misstep (people would fall often at first, so it was patched out during an update).
—If I fall off the foothold, my Demon Lord dignity would plummet too...
Diablo silently poured some magical energy into his boots, the ?Empty Sky’s Gambol?. His flight magic should help him in case he fell. A bit of MP was a small price to pay for maintaining his dignity.
They scaled up the tree, reaching its zenith where the royal living quarters were. The queen was the only one there now, and with the top of the tree being flat, there was room for several people to sit. Branches twisted into the shape of a crown surrounded the place, and the queen sat on a carpet of leaves, doing nothing. She wore a green dress, and while her attire was different, her face was very similar to Shera’s. It was as if Shera had blossomed from a lovely girl to a beautiful woman...
Except the size of their breasts was different. The queen was flat, as Elves usually are.
“Mother!” Shera called out.
“Hm? Shera...? Oh, it is you, Shera!”
“Whoooa, Motherrr!”
“Oh you, if you were coming home, you should have at least sent me a letter. I haven’t prepared anything at all.”
“Aaah, sorry. There was some trouble on the way... The Church went all ‘boom, bang’! And then I snoozed for a long time!”
“Really? That sounds awful... Things were quite bad for me too... Oh, yes, how could I forget to mention: Your father died. I was so shocked...”
“Yeah, I was surprised too... But are you all right, Mother?”
“I can’t say that I am, but I should get used to it after a decade or so. I spent a century with him after all.”
“Yeah, you’ll get used to it in no time.”
“Ah, I have some fruit. Are you hungry?” There were apples and grapes lined up on a wooden plate. “Oh, and I knitted some clothes for you.”
“Sure, I’m starved. And you knitted me clothes, huh...”
“What, don’t you like them?”
“They’re always so tight around my chest...”
“That’s because you’re an exception, they shouldn’t have puffed up like that. I wonder who you got that from...”
“Well, I mean, yeah, buuut...”
Suddenly, the queen’s gaze fell on Diablo. “My, and who might you be?”
“Now you notice me!?”
He was feeling terribly awkward for walking into someone else’s home. Honestly speaking, he wanted to go back to his “home” as soon as possible. But after the matter with Prince Keera, Diablo didn’t feel comfortable leaving Shera alone here.
“I am Diablo! A Demon Lord from another world!” he introduced himself once more.
“My! So you’re Diablo! Thank you so much for all the help you’ve given Shera!”
“No, uhh...”
“But my, you’re every bit as terrifying as Celsior said you were... Oh, please, help yourself to some fruit.”
This weird, yet familiar, feeling of airheaded detachment...
—That’s definitely Shera’s mom.
Diablo felt oddly convinced.
“Omnom...” Shera sat down on the leaves and picked some grapes off the plate. “Diablo may be scary, but he’s really nice! He’s always saving me.”
“Really? How lovely... But I heard he injured poor Celsior and his troops.”
“That’s because Brother was...”
“Aaah...” The queen sighed. “Keera too. Why did that silly boy try to start a war with the Humans?”
She may carry herself cheerfully, but she had lost both her sons and her husband. It was only natural she’d be depressed over the fact. Not to mention that the Elves live much longer than most races, so both birth and death were rare for them.
“But it’s a good thing you’re here!” The queen cheered up, smiling again. “You coming back is wonderful news. Whoever you marry will be the new Elf king after all. You do remember that, yes?”
“I totally forgot, but I remembered it the other day! Greenwood will be in big trouble if there isn’t a king, right?”
“Correct. So long as we have a king, the forest’s blessings remain unwithered and the sacred treasure God entrusted with us remains protected.”
“So if I marry, I also become the queen, right?”
“Just like me. Which would make me the queen mother... My oh my, that will take some getting used to.”
“But...I still want to go out on adventures...” Shera sighed. “There are still things I have to do. But...we do need a king...”
“Adventures, you say? Well, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Huuuh?”
“You’re still young, darling, so go out on all the adventures you want,” the queen said, to Diablo and Shera’s surprise.
“Yay!!! Thanks, Mother!”
Diablo, on the other hand, found it anticlimactic. He figured it would be strictly forbidden and Shera would be forced to marry, so having it be so casually allowed made him both relieved and oddly exhausted.
“You can still go out on your little adventures,” the queen said with a smile. “But you still need to get married, all right? I’ve already picked a groom for you.”
“Huh!?”
“His pedigree and personality are both very respectable. I’m sure you’ll hit things off right away. You even used to play with him when you were little.”
“Wh-Who do you mean...? Actually, I wanted to marry...”
“Oh? You already have someone in mind?”
Shera reached out her hand, grabbing the hem of Diablo’s cloak. Realizing what Shera meant, the queen spoke softly.
“Greenwood is an Elven kingdom, darling. We need a king everyone would be satisfied with.”
“But...”
“We’ve been entrusted with guarding something very important ever since the time of myth. In exchange, we’ve been given the blessings of the forest. I’m sure I’ve told you many times what God told the Elves back then. But you always were a forgetful little thing, though I’m not sure who you take after in that regard... No matter what, the royal bloodline must never be allowed to die out. The husbands of those of royal blood become the new king. The king prays to God, then... Well, there are some other details, but that’s the most important part.”
It was pretty obvious who Shera had gotten her forgetfulness from...
Why did God ever entrust something “very important” to this family? It felt like a rather critical error in judgment.
“I did remember that, but the rule doesn’t say anything about the king having to be an Elf!”
“Why, the Elven king must be an Elf. It wouldn’t be an Elven kingdom otherwise, now would it?”
The queen spoke so matter-of-factly, as if there was nothing to doubt, but there truly was nothing wrong about what she said. As sad as it was to admit, Shera was the one being high-handed here.
“But, I...”
Her voice was getting smaller by the moment. Stuck between reason and emotion, Diablo’s feeling were just as mixed on the matter.
—This is getting complicated... There are too many things in this world even great magic can’t solve.
Diablo sighed softly.
†
Just as the sky began turning orange—
Diablo and Shera were sitting on a tree root.
“Aaaaaaw, what should I do...” Shera looked to be at her wit’s end. “I can’t believe it has to be an Elf...”
“Just what was this ‘perfect’ plan you ‘thought through’ when you made the promise to the Dark Elves?”
“Well...” Shera’s shoulders dropped and her long ears sagged lower than usual. “The Kingdom of Greenwood definitely needs a new king, and that would be whomever I marry, right?”
“Correct.”
“So I figured...I’d pick you.”
There were too many holes to point out in that idea!
“No one would agree with a Demon being a king of the Elves. Even the queen was against it, wasn’t she?”
“Uuu...”
“To begin with, Demons are the most loathed of the races.”
It was just something in the game’s setting, but, in this other world, Diablo could feel real, clear-cut discrimination.
“Right...”
“If you picked a Human, it may have been different.”
“No, that’d be even worse... Humans are a majority, but they rule over the races and aren’t satisfied with just their own country. They want the other races’ territories too. Everyone hates them because they’re so greedy.”
“What about the other races? What image do the Elves have of them?”
“Hmm... I have lots of friends from other races so I don’t personally think this way, but it’s said Demons are too hateful, Humans are greedy, Dwarves are drunk gluttons, and Grasswalkers are lazy bums.”
“And the Pantherians?”
“Err...”
Shera looked left and right, as if to confirm no one was listening in on them, and brought her lips to Diablo’s ear, whispering with her face flushed red.
“...They say they’re pervs.”
“O-Oh...”
Other races probably thought Elves were arrogant. Diablo specifically thought back to Prince Keera. The Elves were said to be the closest race to the gods, and were given a special treasure to defend along with the blessed forest. While that may have been a fact, being too prideful could attract spite.
Diablo shrugged. “If you know this much, why did you assume the Elves would accept someone from another race as a king?”
“Uuu... I thought this was a good idea...”
“A-Also, you could have at least consulted me first...”
“But I always want to be with you!”
“Huh...”
Being told this directly left Diablo surprised. He could tell she depended on him as a companion, but he didn’t think she looked at him as someone of the opposite gender...much less considering him as someone worth marrying.
Shera looked at him with such an earnest gaze that Diablo was impressed she could make such a face, and at the same time felt a blush creep over his cheeks.
“You don’t want to be with me, Diablo?”
“...I...”
Of course he wanted to be with her, but he couldn’t wholeheartedly choose her as his one and only spouse. The things he understood the least were his own emotions, and he never had the leisure to focus on them. The real him was incapable of even holding a conversation with someone else, so romantic feelings, which involved exposing that aspect of himself, were simply too...
“Hey, you!”
The two heard a man shout, as well as the distinct clambering sound of metallic armor. Diablo’s awareness surfaced from the depths of contemplation as he realized Elves didn’t wear metal armor; even the Dark Elf warriors wore leather armor. This meant there was someone who wasn’t an Elf here...
The armored warrior ran in their direction, issuing banging sounds with every step he made. Diablo stood up from the tree root, brandishing his dagger, ?Garuda Edge?.
“Stop right there! State your name!”
“Oh! It truly is you, my bosom friend!”
“...Bosom friend?”
The man raised a hand in a friendly fashion. “Indeed! And hello to you too, Shera! I’m sure not seeing me for so long has left you lonely and heartbroken!”
“Err...” Shera tilted her head. “Do I know you?”
“Ahahahaha!” the armored man laughed merrily. “I see you two cannot recognize me because of my exceedingly glamorous new armor!”
He then removed the helmet with a ‘Well then!’ revealing a young man with willful, bushy eyebrows and bright orange hair giving them a shining, toothy grin.
“I am Emile Bichelberger!” he exclaimed, striking a ridiculous pose. “Ally to all women! And an ally to all allies of women!”
“Ah... Yes, give me a moment...” Diablo pressed a finger to his forehead, visibly pensive. “Come to think of it...wasn’t there someone like you in Faltra...?”
Shera averted her gaze. “And just when I managed to forget about him too...”
“Hahah, you must have gone through such eventful times to have forgotten about someone like me!” Emile was, despite the rather terrible reception he’d gotten, endlessly optimistic. “Enough to make days feel like months, I’d bet! As I’d expect of my sworn friend!”
“You haven’t changed at all.”
Emile had a mentality of steel: unbending, unbreaking, and unyielding. But even a man such as he heaved a despondent sigh.
“Haven’t changed, have I... That is certainly not the case! I’ll have you know, I’ve come face to face with my own limitations. When I was beaten down by the Fallen, Gregore, and beheld your great magic, I realized I couldn’t let things stay that way.”
“And that’s what brought you to Greenwood?”
“My master told me ‘Go forth and broaden your horizons!’ I’ve become apprentice to the Swordmaster Graham, who lives up in the northern mountains, you see.”
“What!?” Diablo exclaimed. “Graham exists in this world!?”
“Hmm? What do you mean...by that?”
“Ahh, never mind...”
Cross Reverie had level limits, and players had to clear a certain event to level up beyond them. Among these, the hardest quest to complete was the one for going beyond level 99, which was considered the limit of the races. Each player would meet a teacher representative of their class, travel through the different nations for each race, and complete a particular quest that would unlock leveling up beyond the level limit. Once you passed level 99 it was an entirely different world.
Graham, the Swordmaster, was the Warrior class’s teacher.
“But I thought you had to be level 80 or above to even meet them?”
“Really? Then I suppose that means I’m level 80 right now!”
“That’s a pretty vague assessment...”
“It’s completely fine! I’m the one who discerns the levels of Warrior-type Adventurers after all. If I say I’m level 80, then that means I’m definitely level 80!”
In this world, levels were a criterion for what quests one could accept, and were generally decided by those of higher ranking. Emile’s way of talking may have drawn him up as a bumbling idiot, but he was, as a matter of fact, the strongest Warrior-type Adventurer in Faltra.
Even still, a low-ranking Fallen had made short work of him. Faltra’s Adventurers were so low level it left Diablo honestly shocked. But maybe that had changed now?
“Heheheh... Let us test you then.”
“Huh?”
Diablo brandished his dagger toward Emile’s chest, the center of Emile’s armor. However, he felt as if an invisible wall blocked his way, deflecting the dagger to the side. Just as the tip of the blade was about to touch Emile, it was pushed back as if it had struck against solid rock.
“Ah! That’s the Martial Art ?Rampart?!”
“Hmph... I won’t lose as easily as last time!”
The first time they met, Emile’s fighting style was full of openings, and Diablo had beaten him down with nothing but his staff. But now, normal attacks wouldn’t be able to phase him anymore. He truly had grown.
“Impressive, given how short a time it’s been.”
“It wasn’t for lack of trouble. At first, I challenged Lord Galford, Faltra’s governor, to battle!”
“You did what!?”
Galford was a hero of the old war, and strong enough to fight Diablo to a stalemate. Was he perhaps the strongest Warrior-type fighter among the races...? No, Alan of the ?Order of Palace Knights? and the order’s captain may cast that into doubt... But either way, it didn’t make much of a difference now.
Galford was that much of a daunting opponent. He could kill Gregore in a flash, and his nature was of a cold, calculated warrior. Diablo couldn’t imagine Emile walking away from a battle with him with Emile’s head still intact.
“I can’t say your lies impress me.”
“Trust in me, my bosom friend! I realize how vast his strength is. But even when he knocked me down, my comrades would heal me, and after many challenges I realized the trick to it all!”
“Oh...”
“Some among my friends pleaded with me to cease such a dangerous pursuit, but once I began challenging him on a daily basis, some even joined me for practice... Ah, camaraderie is truly the best!”
Dumb as he may seem, Emile was quite popular.
“And that’s how I matured!” Emile concluded, holding a finger upright.
Shera was surprised. “That’s amazing! Did you beat him at all!?”
“I did no such thing! The only one to match Lord Galford is none other than my bosom friend!”
“Oh, then, did you at least land an attack on him once?”
“Close! I managed to block a single one of his attacks!”
“Wow.”
“No, no, no, that’s plenty impressive, my fair Shera! Lord Galford’s swipes are so fast I couldn’t even see them at first!”
Diablo considered his words.
—Galford is prejudiced against Adventurers, so he must have accepted Emile’s challenges because the Demon Lord’s army is on the move.
It stood as evidence to how anxious Galford probably was in his desire to increase the races’ strength.
Emile smirked. “Once he saw how much I matured, Lord Galford introduced me to Swordmaster Graham and sent me to train with them... And now I’ve gone out on a journey to hone my skills!”
“Are you sure he didn’t just pawn you off so you’d bother someone else?”
“Ahahaha! That’s highly unlikely! Everyone is expecting great things out of me!”
His mental fortitude was as indomitable as ever. Diablo wished Emile could share some of that baseless confidence.
As they were talking, several Elven boys, holding small bows, ran up to them.
“Emile, we’re ready... Ah, Princess Shera!”
Having noticed her, the boys bowed in a hurry, though their expressions became frightened when they looked at Diablo.
Shera raised a hand amicably. “Hello there, it’s been a while! Are you going somewhere with Emile?”
“Yes! We’re off to show him the way as he hunts magical beasts!”
“Magical beasts!? This late at night!?”
“They don’t come out of their nests unless it’s nighttime,” one of the boys explained.
“I see... Be sure to watch yourselves, OK?”
“Thank you very much! And, uhm...welcome back, Princess Shera!”
“Thanks!”
Diablo could tell how much they adored Shera.
“Well then!” Emile put his helmet back on. “We’re off for a spot of hunting! Fare thee well, Shera and my sworn friend!”
“Good luck out there~” Shera saw them off with a wave of the hand.
They could hear the boys saying, “Wow, Emile, you’re friends with the princess!”
Hunting for magical beasts was part of the level limit quest, and they were small magical beasts too, so with his current skills, Emile should have no problems beating them.
“...He may become a reliable vanguard one day.” Diablo gave a thin smile.
†
The moon floated up in the sky. Night had fallen, and Rem’s group was finally brought into the village. Rem walked with her shoulders dropped, visibly exhausted. Rose was as expressionless as ever, but her maid outfit was even more torn than earlier. Rafflesia stood composed as the Elves surrounded her, their bows drawn. Shera ran between them in a flustered manner, throwing her hands in front of Rafflesia, as if to protect her from the Elves.
“What are you doing!?”
“Sh-She’s dangerous, Princess Shera! She’s a Dark Elf!”
“She’s an Elf, just like us! She’s a friend!”
“A friend!?” The soldiers began muttering in confusion.
“What’s this about one of Shera’s companions being a Dark Elf?” Having heard the commotion, the queen herself came out.
“A good day to you.” Rafflesia bowed politely. “It has been long since we’ve last met.”
“Y-You...!? You’re Rafflesia S. Orangewood... Why are you here!?”
There was a shiver in the queen’s voice. Diablo assumed as much, but it still wasn’t a very positive reaction. Rafflesia also seemed prepared for this, and wasn’t phased in the slightest.
“Haha... Haven’t you heard? Your daughter made an oath on her life—and I’ve come to see it delivered.”
Of course she would be this composed; she had an ace up her sleeve she could brandish at any moment.
“Shera, we must speak.” The queen’s expression clouded over.
“Y-Yeah...”
The queen then ordered the soldiers, “Lady Rafflesia is our guest. Treat her with due respect. Reckless behavior will not be forgiven.”
True to her long-running status as queen, her words carried a menacing weight to them. The soldiers stood upright as the queen left with Shera.
Diablo wanted to accompany them, but her attitude afforded him no opportunity to even say anything. He was concerned, but he had no intention of making a ruckus of things, so he restrained himself.
The Elves also realized Diablo’s strength, and wouldn’t do anything to force Shera to obey them.
Shortly after—
Diablo and his group were lent a building to lodge in. It wasn’t on a tree, but an estate made out of normal bricks on the ground. It was apparently a guest house made for when non-Elf races came to visit, and was built in the style of the homes of the Kingdom of Lyferia. Since it was built in the forest though, it didn’t have any candlesticks that would be lit with fire. In their place, a chandelier made of shining gemstones dangled from the ceiling.
The room was roughly the size of the common inn, and there were two bedrooms, one probably for a master and the other for their valet.
Diablo was seated on the common room’s sofa.
“Hmph... It’s smaller than I would expect of a country’s diplomatic guest house.”
Though it was much larger than his room in his world.
“...Guests must be a fairly rare occurrence in this country,” Rem said, having sat down on the sofa opposite of him and fallen to the side, lying on it horizontally. She sighed heavily.
She was an experienced Adventurer, and a Pantherian at that, so she had much more stamina compared to the common person. It was rare seeing her this worn out.
“You got really lost in that forest, didn’t you?”
“Forgive Rose, Master.” Rose bowed her head deeply at Diablo’s remark. “Rose was not there to aid Master when Master needed Rose most... Rose is a pile of mechanical waste. Dispose of Rose however Master sees fit.”
“I wasn’t voicing my displeasure, maid. I was merely asking what happened.”
With Rem looking about ready to fall asleep on the sofa at any moment, and Rose apologizing earnestly, Rafflesia spoke up.
“We intended to go after you, Sir Diablo, when giant rocks rained down from the sky.”
“That was the work of my magic.”
They probably meant the Heaven’s Fall spell he’d used to get rid of the Herbductor.
“...So we hurried there, thinking that’s where you were bound to be,” Rem grumbled from the sofa, still lying down. “But then we found the forest was completely wrecked.”
“Hmm.”
Diablo replied with the composed tone of a Demon Lord receiving a report from his underlings...but inwardly, he realized and was tormented by how much he screwed up. After he saved Shera, he immediately moved from his spot to make sense of where he was and find Rem and the others. But if he thought it out more carefully, he’d have realized casting such a large spell would lead Rem to him if he just waited long enough!
Diablo had played as a solo player for so long he couldn’t get used to acting in a group. He was, honestly speaking, terrible at being a part of one. But still, he had his dignity as a Demon Lord to maintain.
“Ah...that... Rafflesia said she knew the way to Greenwood. I thought you would find your way on your own even if I left you.”
“I do know, but the forest was so terribly disturbed. All the marks were gone.”
“Marks?”
“There are marks all over the trees, the type only Elves can see.”
Even if you knew where to go, you would get lost if the road itself was blown away.
“...While we were wandering through the forest, the Elves showed up,” Rem added. “We were going to ask them to lead us to the kingdom, but they attacked as soon as they saw a Dark Elf. It took some time to convince them.”
“Since you forbade Rose from killing them, Master.”
That was probably what had exhausted Rem and damaged Rose’s clothing.
Diablo nodded. “Your judgment was fine. This is Shera’s homeland, and they’re in a very delicate state of mind. Putting your strength on display is fine, but killing anyone would only complicate things.”
“Rose has a proposal, Master... If Master were to display Master’s power, Master would be able to wangle the Elves’ allegiance and resolve this situation early on. If Master only bestows the order upon Rose, Rose can easily make short work of a force of this size...”
—For heaven’s sake, don’t!
“Hmph... Cease your foolishness. What amusement would I gain from threatening such a backwater country? Are you trying to order me into doing such menial chores?”
“Pardon Rose for Rose’s lack of prudence.” Rose bowed her head again, and retreated back to the wall.
“Hohoho... Quite right.” Rafflesia smiled bitterly. “Being in charge of people can truly be a chore.”
Diablo then asked a question that sprung up in his mind. It was something that wasn’t written in Cross Reverie’s lore books.
“Is the Dark Elves’ rule also hereditary?”
“It is, at least fundamentally. But I... I was to wed the Dark Elven patriarch’s son, but I came from an unremarkable bloodline.”
“You were to wed him?”
“’Tis a story that dates back to my childhood, but he was my fiancé, yes.”
“Hmph. And what happened to him?”
“Wha...!?”
Diablo failed to notice just how fake Rafflesia’s smile was, but Rem sat up in surprise.
“Ohoho... My fiancé was killed, by the Crusade. Even though he was but a child then.”
Even Diablo was rendered speechless.
“...Are you plotting revenge against the Elves?” Rem’s expression turned sharp.
“Perish the thought! I would never think to do something so terrible.”
“...That’s good then... The Crusade was sent by the Kingdom of Lyferia. I don’t know what happened back then, but wouldn’t blaming the Elves be misguided?”
“Misguided?”
“...I doubt the Elves could stand up to Lyferia’s elite soldiers. I believe they didn’t willingly abandon the Dark Elves, they simply lacked the means to resist.”
Rafflesia fell silent, only to sigh the next moment.
“I understand. I would be lying if I said I have no ill feelings in regard to this, but I carry the weight of many lives. I cannot throw away this opportunity for coexistence over a personal grudge.”
“Is that right?”
“Coming to this forest after so long has dug up old memories... More memories than I am willing to share. I’ve said some shameful things, so please, forget what I’ve spoken.”
Rafflesia smiled with her usual, serene expression. Things seem to have calmed down for now.
Just as Diablo thought it was about time for dinner, a bell rang from the door.
“...This is an Elven country, so I’m not getting my hopes up.” Rem combed up her hair. “I’d prefer meat to fruit right now, to be honest.”
The chance of weapons being aimed their way was a possible one, but it wasn’t the Demon Lord way to be vigilant to the point of nervousness. Diablo sat down imposingly as Rose opened the door.
An Elf in butler’s garb lowered his head respectfully.
“I beg your pardon. Her Majesty has asked to convey that you are all invited to a dinner party this evening.”
“...A banquet to hold negotiations, I suppose.” Rem shrugged.
“My oh my. An invitation to a dinner party by the Elven queen herself. How nerve-racking.” Though Rafflesia’s composed attitude remained unshaken.
“Heheheh...” Diablo rose from the sofa, flapping his cloak as he did. “Very well, we shall oblige to her invitation. Consider it an honor!”
†
The treetop dining hall was significantly different from what Diablo expected out of a royal dinner party. The large tree summit was flat, like the queen’s room, with large leaves spread over the floor. Fruits in an assortment of colors were placed on these leaves, and with no table or chairs, it was like a picnic.
The queen and Shera were already sitting, waiting for them. There were no guards in sight, but some were likely hiding in the nearby foliage. Should they do anything suspicious, the guards would probably shoot them down with arrows.
“Welcome, please feel free to sit wherever you find comfortable.” The queen gestured with a hand in the direction of the food. “You may not be used to Elven etiquette, but there’s no need to be worried about the little things.”
When they first met, the queen felt more like a friend’s mother, but right now she had the face of a country’s representative. And people who carried this much responsibility could be a pain to deal with.
“...We thank you for your warm hospitality despite our sudden arrival, and for inviting us to this feast.” Rem bowed politely.
Rafflesia sat opposite the queen. “Being surrounded by green leaves truly is nostalgic.”
Diablo sat without a word. His Demon Lord role play probably demanded he say something haughty, but he realized doing so would be the equivalent of blowing the conversation up with an explosive spell.
Even Shera was uncharacteristically quiet. Diablo fixed his gaze on hers, but was only met with silence. It looked like she had much to say, but couldn’t find the words; as if she were so deeply troubled she couldn’t even ask for help.
Diablo sighed. Things were probably all decided already, and not in a way Shera was pleased with.
The queen lifted a wooden goblet filled with fruit wine. “To God’s blessings, and our meeting here tonight. We cannot make a toast in this time of mourning, but do feel free to converse pleasantly.”
She then brought the goblet to her lips. Diablo and the others did the same.
“...Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Rem Galleu, an Adventurer from Faltra,” Rem said. “I often work alongside Princess Shera.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of you. You’ve saved my daughter on more than one occasion, I understand.”
“...We are comrades. Helping one another is a given.”
The queen’s brow furrowed at the sound of the word ‘comrades,’ but she didn’t inquire any further.
She then directed her gaze at Rose, who stood away from the rest of the group, but it seemed she didn’t count an attendant as one of their rank.
“The fruit would surely go bitter if we keep probing each other’s motives like this, so allow me to put aside all the unimportant details and ask,” Rafflesia opened the debate, then went straight to the point. “Do you intend to honor Princess Shera’s promise?”
“Yes, of course!” The queen surprisingly smiled.
“My oh my... What very pleasing news!”
“I have put much thought into it as well. The Elves and Dark Elves are related races, and despite what happened in the past we should still strive to coexist.”
“Quite true, what has happened, happened, and we now live in the present.”
“Very much so.”
“So, what part of the forest will you give us? And when will it happen?”
Rafflesia was forcefully pressing the queen, whose expression turned pensive.
“Mmm. Regarding that matter, I believe we should each dispatch a representative and begin negotiations. As for when, what say you we do it after our new king is appointed? That way we should have everything decided before next winter. After that, I think we should hold a festival to celebrate the reconciliation of the Elves and Dark Elves.”
Shera seemed to be in favor of this suggestion, as her stiff expression softened. Rafflesia’s temples, on the other hand, shivered with emotion, despite the smile plastered on her face.
“...Are you quite serious?”
“Certainly.”
“You truly intended to... honor Princess Shera’s promise, Your Majesty? I believe the Elves...loathe us Dark Elves.”
“The majority of the Elves wish to reconcile with you. But many still fear you. I myself truly wish to put this grudge behind us. We once lived side by side after all.”
“Then, why didn’t you...!?” Rafflesia clenched her fists.
“Calm yourself.”
“Why did the Elves abandon us back then!?”
The queen took a deep breath. “It was during the Crusade. He... King Greenwood tried to oppose the Humans. But he couldn’t win.”
“Wha...!?”
“With the king taken hostage, we, the Elves, had no choice but to obey the Crusade, even though we knew what a terrible fate it would bring upon the Dark Elves. I’m so very, truly sorry.”
“Wh-Why... You’re telling me...after all this time... Do you honestly expect us to believe that!?”
“I can offer no evidence. That’s why you didn’t believe us at the time. Is this the first you’re hearing of this, Miss Rafflesia? We’ve tried reaching out and explaining to the Dark Elves many times. But that wouldn’t bring back all those lost lives, or your forest.”
“Exactly so... Even now...I find it all hard to believe.”
“But if it’s possible for us to reconcile, I believe that would be wonderful.”
“I do not believe you!” Rafflesia glared the queen down.
Shera and Rem listened to the argument impatiently, but kept out of it.
The silence lingered. Diablo hated this sort of atmosphere, and parted his lips to speak with annoyance.
“Calm yourself, Rafflesia. I didn’t think you to be so emotional. It seems you’re incapable of looking at the other person properly. All you can do is reflect upon, and see your own reflection in the process. Just as your heart is so full of hatred, you assume the other side must surely hate you as well.”
“So you are saying we are merely assuming things?”
“You carried a grudge for a thousand years, and never stopped to consider the Elves may not have had any ill will toward you. That alone speaks of how lacking in rationality you are. That said, the queen has no proof to back her words. You are free to believe or doubt her story of the Elven king’s defeat. Do as you will.”
This was a promise only the Dark Elves could resolve. How they accepted this and acted was entirely up to them. The words of Diablo, an outsider, couldn’t solve this problem. He was well aware he lacked the charisma and speechcraft for that.
Rafflesia rose to her feet, laughing dryly. “Aha, ahaha... We’ve been robbed of so much we lost sight of what was around us... Is that what you are saying? That we are only stubbornly wallowing in our grudges?”
“I didn’t think your grudge ran that deep. Please, forgive us. But do know, I truly have been waiting for a chance to reconcile. And I was sure things had changed.”
“Changed?”
“I was truly surprised when I heard Shera had visited your village. If it were the past, you would have surely shot her down without question.”
“...That is true.”
“So I thought that enough time had passed for that not to have happened.”
“It’s all too pitiful. It was all our misunderstanding in the end.”
“We truly did abandon the Dark Elves. That much is fact. It is only natural you resent us for it.”
“But King Greenwood...”
He did earnestly fight for the Dark Elves.
Rafflesia closed her eyes, and fell into a brief silence. She may have been mouthing a silent prayer.
“...The air here truly makes me nostalgic. I believe I’ve said all I had to say, so I will take my leave first. Princess Shera seems displeased with the man she is to marry, but...if I were to say anything on the matter, it would surely harm future relations between our races.”
She noticed Shera’s anxiety, it seemed. In that regard, she truly exemplified a leader of the races.
“I’m glad we’ve spoken, Miss Rafflesia.” The queen bowed forward.
“I will...believe your words. I wish to believe in them.”
“Thank you. We will hold Shera’s wedding in a few days. Will you stay and celebrate with us?”
“Why of course.”
Rafflesia turned on her heels and walked away. Rem sighed seeing her do so.
“...With the Demon Lord awakened, we would need all the races to cooperate and unite to defeat him. I hope this is a step in that direction.”
“Yes, I hope things are now settled with this.”
If anything, now was when the real challenge began...
†
Every race has its own standards of individual beauty and ugliness, and the Elves were no exception, it seemed.
“I thank you for graciously inviting me to this dinner party.”
The man who appeared had a slimy, viscous voice and looked less like an Elf and more like an Orc. Or, put more simply, he looked like a pig, and—not considering everything else—was incredibly fat.
Diablo wondered who he was as the queen beckoned him closer.
“Come, sit.”
“Duhuhu... Thank you, Your Majesty. Excuse me.”
He had a very distinct, somewhat greasy tone of voice. The Elves typically looked to be young and handsome, but he looked like some middle-aged man.
Wiping the sweat off his skin with a handkerchief, the man sat near the queen.
“...Um... Who is this...person...?” Rem inquired with a peculiar expression on her face.
“This gentleman is Drango,” the queen said with a smile. “I’ve chosen him to be Shera’s groom. He’s to be Greenwood’s next king!”
“Huuuuuuh!?” Rem’s eyes widened like saucers.
Shera was pale with shock.
“Drango is a very exceptional Elf,” the queen continued, unperturbed. “He is one of our finest archers, and he learned economics and proper governing skills outside the kingdom. And doesn’t he just seem so sturdy and dependable?”
“...So this is the Elven sense of aesthetics...”
“His facial features are a bit distinguished, I’ll admit.”
“...How do you feel about this, Shera?”
“Aaaaaah...” Shera shook her head desperately. For better or worse, her sense of taste certainly didn’t come from her mother.
“No, Shera.” The queen sighed. “If it were another Elf it would be one thing, but you tried to make a Demon our king. No one would agree to such a foolish idea.”
“...A demon... You mean...Diablo!? You were expecting to marry him, Shera!? Make him king of the Elves!?”
Rem’s tail stood on end. She wasn’t there to see Shera say it, Diablo came to realize.
Forgetting that she was in front of the queen, Rem bore her fangs. “Are you an idiot!? No, that’s not even a question, you are an idiot!”
“You’re so mean...”
Ignoring Shera’s meek whisper, Rem pointed at her face. “This was your ‘well-thought out, perfect plan’!? It’s definitely not thought out, and not even remotely perfect!”
“Uuu... But...”
“...Aaaaaargh...” Rem cradled her head in despair. “Your Majesty, what do you think? Maybe you should postpone her marriage? She’s young and still needs time for her...brain...to develop.”
“I agree she’s still young. My, she’s only sixteen years old. But Greenwood needs a king as soon as possible. We have a commitment to God to abide to, and if we’re to keep our promise to the Dark Elves, we need Shera to marry as soon as she can.”
“...You’re telling her to put up with it for the good of the kingdom!?”
“That should be a given. That’s what it means to be royalty. Shera has lived a life without hardship, received exceptional education when she was little, and even received special equipment that is part of our national treasury. She received such treatment simply because she’s a princess. She’s been treated as a unique individual since the day she was born, so she has no right to be selfish when the time comes to give back to the kingdom.”
“...But Shera never chose to...”
“And do people choose to be born into poor families? To be the children of knights? Did you choose to be born a Pantherian?”
“...N-No, but...”
“A princess is to live as a princess should. Now that she’s the last heir to the royal blood, Shera has to fulfill this duty.”
This world had Demi-Humans and magic, and its society was roughly equivalent to the Middle Ages. It was a feudal era, based on hereditary inheritance. Your birth decided the life you’d lead.
—But I guess even in modern society, your environment influenced the life you’d lead as well.
Recalling all manner of unpleasant memories, Diablo fell into social-withdrawal mode. He sunk into the bog of the events of his embarrassing past, and when he came to, he found the conversation was already proceeding again.
“Duhuhu... Personally, I don’t want to force this on her,” Drango changed the subject. “But the Kingdom of Greenwood urgently needs a king. I’m afraid there’s no choice.”
The Elves depended on the blessings of the forest, and those were only granted to them by fulfilling their promise to God.
They needed a king.
“But the king doesn’t have to be an Elf...”
“How many times will I have to say no!?” the queen snapped at her. Shera’s shoulders drastically sagged.
“Incidentally, that collar is also an issue,” Drango changed the subject once more.
“Ah...” Shera placed her hand over her neck, blushing.
“I’ve heard about it from Celsior.” The queen sighed. “Apparently she had a ?Slave Collar? placed on her.”
“No! This is an Enslavement Collar! When I summoned Diablo, his magic reflection went all ‘whoosh,’ then it was on my neck!”
“It’s all the same, really. But as you can see, she wasn’t given any strange orders and none of the sacred treasures are missing. You can rest easy, Drango.”
—The Elves’ sacred treasures...
He recalled Prince Keera mentioning the treasures. The Elves seemed to have some pretty powerful artifacts slumbering in their vaults.
“Used goods...” Drango whispered.
“Huh?”
“Ah, no, I don’t mind! But, err... Well, we can check and see if she was given any strange orders, but the collar would stick out during the wedding... Please, excuse me.”
He moved from where he was sitting, moving to Shera’s side, and reached for the collar. Shera tensed up and looked ready to flee, but, realizing it would be rude, she merely stiffened.
“Hmhm...” Drango touched the collar. “This is amazing! It would take more than a day or two to remove it.”
“O-Obviously! Even Diablo couldn’t get it off.”
“But if you have it on during the ceremony, the citizens would surely be anxious. In that case, let’s do this... Let light and wind cloak thee, and nothing be reflected upon you...”
Drango recited an incantation, and snapped his fingers. Just like he’d performed some sort of magic trick, Shera’s Enslavement Collar disappeared.
—He dispelled it!?
“Impossible!?” Rem rose to her feet. She knew firsthand how difficult it was to remove the collar, so her reaction was only natural.
Diablo was also surprised, of course, but letting his surprise show on his face would ruin his Demon Lord role play.
“That’s an interesting trick you pulled there, Drango,” he said confidently.
“I thought this would be a good solution for Princess Shera. I cast a concealment spell on this powerful magical tool, but it may be unstable.”
“Hmph...” Diablo scoffed.
—Concealment magic, huh?
He hadn’t dispelled the collar, but rather rendered it invisible. Still, his skill with magic would have to be considerably high to do that. Cross Reverie didn’t have any spells to render equipment invisible though, so Diablo had no way of knowing how strong his magic was.
“...Unbelievable...” Rem’s eyes were wide with shock. “This is, without a doubt, high level magic...”
“Duhuhu... I don’t have much magical energy though. I shamefully admit I was born with a rather small capacity.”
“Isn’t he resourceful?” The queen beamed, apparently pleased to see the groom she’d chosen for her daughter prove his worth.
In contrast, Diablo’s heart was awfully discomposed...
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