Chapter 72 - Pop

“There are over a hundred, at the very least. It’s dangerous.”

Galahad glanced up. Gilberton’s face was as expressionless as it had been when they first met. Galahad quietly tapped the ash from his cigarette.

They were in a small room in the tavern. There was no bed, since Demons did not sleep. Instead of sleeping, they sipped human blood.

To Demons, humans were a precious nap, a source of food, and water to quench their thirst. Demons were humanity’s predators.

Galahad took a deep drag and studied Gilberton.

“We must retreat. We should request reinforcements and come back.”

Oddly enough, Gilberton’s voice was calm. He truly was a knight seasoned on the front lines. The tendons stood out in his neck. He was furious, yet he was still arguing for retreat.

“That doesn’t sound like you, Sir Gilberton.”

“We must retreat. Your safety comes first, Commander.”

“No, perhaps it does sound like you.”

“This is no time for jokes—”

“Sir Gilberton.”

Galahad flicked away his spent cigarette. The mana cigarette crumbled into powder and scattered, leaving only a flat piece of paper.

“Yes.”

Gilberton answered, his eyes tense as he looked at Galahad.

“I have no intention of giving up on Damian.”

“But—”

“I haven’t finished. Will you hear me out first?”

Gilberton nodded.

“Thank you. As I said, Damian matters. The same goes for Gwen and Tom. They aren’t the sort of thing I can give up.”

Gilberton nodded again. Then a question suddenly occurred to him.

‘Was my name in there?’

“Now, there are exactly one hundred and ninety-seven Demons. House Proxel, which took Damian, has thirty-one in total. Its rival, House Vance, has twenty-five.”

Gilberton’s mouth fell slightly open.

“Don’t ask how I found out. It’s a trade secret.”

Gilberton looked behind Galahad. Three Demon corpses lay there with holes through their necks. They were shriveled dry, just like what the Demon employee had done earlier.

‘Did that employee come upstairs?’

“But the two houses don’t get along. Not at all. Isn’t it funny? Demons fighting over supremacy.”

Galahad chuckled. Gilberton could not laugh along.

“The important thing is that Demons are colony-minded. They have no interest whatsoever in Demons outside their own colony. You could openly tear the head off a bottom-ranking Demon that hasn’t joined a colony, for instance, and no one would care. I called this a city, but there are no laws or rules here.”

Galahad gave a small cough. A lemon scent tickled Gilberton’s nose. The curiously tangy fragrance made his mouth water.

“Now, that makes the calculations much simpler. All we have to face is...”

Galahad twirled his long index finger. Gilberton swallowed.

“Thirty-one of them.”

“Isn’t that rather a lot to say ‘all’?”

“That sounds like you, Sir Gilberton. Who would be stupid enough to fight thirty-one of them directly?”

“What? How else would we defeat them?”

“Didn’t I just tell you? They have a rival house.”

Gilberton squinted. What on earth did having a rival house have to do with—

“We’ll join House Vance. Loyalty to Vance!”

Galahad brought a hand to his forehead. Even Gilberton could find no fault with his impeccably proper salute.

The problem was whom he was saluting.

So, right now...

Gilberton desperately swallowed the question, ‘Are you saying we’re going to join a Demon house?’

He had a feeling Galahad would nod.

“Oh, I’m joking.”

Gilberton released the breath he had been holding.

Of course. Even Galahad wouldn’t join a Demon house.

‘He wouldn’t, would he?’

“There’s just one thing to watch out for.”

Galahad continued before Gilberton could speak.

“We mustn’t provoke the ruler of this city.”

“There’s a ruler?”

“An utterly terrifying fellow, I’m told. Every colony head in the city obeys him. Provoke him, and we’ll be fighting the whole city. A pity, but...”

‘A pity?’

Gilberton tilted his head, wondering whether he had heard that correctly.

Just then, the door opened and a figure in thick armor entered. It was Noad, the rookie, whose armor was stifling just to look at.

“Now, let’s get moving. Oh, and keep quiet, everyone. If you absolutely must speak, raise your hand.”

Everyone clamped their mouths shut.

Galahad’s lips curved in satisfaction.

* * *

The Demon city was filled with the smell of burning and acrid ash. The air should have made anyone cough, yet Galahad found it refreshing.

Demons wandered everywhere. Curiously, even the low-ranking Demons had mental barriers erected, as though guarding against mental magic.

‘Do they consider Demons with mental abilities their enemies?’

It was possible. But it wasn’t important right now, so he set the thought aside.

The Demon city had neither rules nor laws. It didn’t even have the concept of a city watch. A human city like that would have become a complete shitshow long ago, yet this one was quiet.

As Galahad explored the city, he realized a few things.

First...

“Ugh!”

A passing Demon recoiled violently and backed away, acting as though it had spotted a filthy pile of shit. Adrianna stood in front of it.

‘Demons really go out of their way to avoid Adrianna. Is it instinct?’

Whenever Adrianna drew near, the Demons backed away in revulsion. Apparently unused to such reactions, she looked thoroughly bewildered. Her stupid helmet turned toward Galahad.

“You should have washed.”

The blue eyes visible through the stupid helmet looked aggrieved.

CLATTER!

Galahad chuckled and turned away.

Demons instinctively shunned Adrianna.

In contrast...

“Hmm. Any interest in selling that female? I’ll pay you well.”

“I’ll pay more. Sell her to me.”

Gwen was immensely popular. Wherever they went, Demons followed her, drooling as though they had spotted an extraordinarily delicious dish.

Tom raised his shield and stepped in front of her, but the Demons would hardly take their eyes off her. They kept making offers to Galahad.

Galahad responded with:

“How much are you offering?”

“...?!”

Gwen’s eyes widened almost to bursting. She frantically opened and closed her mouth.

“Well trained, too! I’ll make a special offer of five young boys.”

“I offer seven.”

“Hmm, not enough.”

After checking the going rate, Galahad found Gwen was worth roughly ten to twelve young boys.

Demons used humans instead of currency. A young boy was something like a gold coin, while a grown man was worth about one silver.

Gwen’s mouth kept working soundlessly. She urgently raised her right hand. Tom and Gilberton followed suit.

“I was only checking.”

Galahad clicked his tongue and waved a hand.

Once they put Adrianna at the front, fewer Demons approached them.

After walking a little farther, they reached their destination.

There stood a mansion similar to House Proxel’s, though smaller and shabbier. It belonged to House Vance, Proxel’s purported rival.

‘Vance, then...’

House Proxel had plenty of members. Numbers didn’t matter to Galahad, but the fact that his opponents were Demons did.

Demons were sensitive to mana—so sensitive that even low-ranking ones could react to his magic. He couldn’t sneak into a place full of them and bring Damian out. Infiltrating a mansion with a hundred knights would have been easier for him.

Even if he could, he had no intention of taking Damian back in secret. Matters like these had to be settled cleanly the first time.

Still, fighting them head-on would also be somewhat dangerous. House Proxel’s authority allowed them to concentrate the other Demons’ strength in a single member. Entering their mansion first would be quite a risk.

Just then, Gilberton raised his right hand. Galahad clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers.

“You may speak.”

“What are you going to do?”

Gilberton, who had been urging retreat earlier, was now radiating fervor. Just like him.

“I intend to stir up conflict.”

“Stir up conflict...?”

“We’ll attack House Proxel and leave traces of House Vance.”

Since the two houses were on bad terms, the fire would spread quickly.

“Can you make it look like an attack by House Vance?”

It was a reasonable question. Demons fought using their individual authorities. Simply leaving sword wounds wouldn’t implicate anyone.

To cause a misunderstanding, they would have to copy an authority.

Galahad looked at Gwen. She was huddled in on herself.

“Don’t we have our popular girl, Gwen?”

“... What? Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Gwen’s face trembled slightly. There wasn’t a trace of confidence in it.

Previously, when the Egg of agony had given Gwen something it called “food,” she had managed to imitate an authority. It had been fleeting and practically useless, but that was enough. All Galahad wanted from her was that imitation.

“I believe in you.”

“... In me? Why?”

“You have to earn that tenfold salary.”

Gwen’s eyes wavered. Galahad chuckled and turned away.

House Vance might have been shabbier than House Proxel, but that didn’t mean he could meddle with them recklessly. With matters like these, being as quiet and discreet as possible was essential.

He intended to catch a few House Vance Demons wandering outside and show them to Gwen. If she could imitate even a little of their authority, he would leave its traces on a House Proxel Demon and stir up conflict.

There was a problem, however.

‘House Vance is more disciplined than I expected.’

Its Demons weren’t wandering outside. They simply stood guard in front of the main gate without moving. Attacking them on House Vance’s own territory would be quite dangerous.

He needed to lure them out.

And the way to do that was, of course...

“Now, Gwen. Time to use your feminine charms.”

“... Whaaat?! Me?!”

“Yes. Flaunt that beauty that has all the Demons drooling.”

“But I’m cute, not beautiful!”

“No, you’re clearly a beauty to Demons.”

“Is... is that a compliment?”

“Of course. So popular with Demons... I’m truly envious. This is essential if we’re to rescue Damian.”

“I’ll try!”

Gwen nodded, determination on her face.

“I’m counting on you.”

He gave her back a gentle push. Gwen let out a little “I can do this!” and headed toward the Demons. Her steps shook terribly, like a newborn foal’s.

He chuckled, then felt a prickling at the back of his head. Turning, he found the stupid helmet staring at him.

CLATTER.

Just then, the Demons’ heads whipped around.

Both sniffed the air at once. Long strings of drool ran from their mouths—a remarkably undignified sight for creatures pretending to be nobles.

Gwen stopped a short distance away. The Demons kept twitching, as though desperately resisting the urge to leap at her. They were fairly well trained.

It didn’t last long, though.

“H-hello?”

The moment Gwen greeted them in a tearful voice, the Demons took a step. For the first time, they moved away from the gate.

‘Sit.’

Galahad pressed firmly over his heart. The Egg of agony thumped in a small fit of petulance.

Since eating that other egg, its tastes had grown fussy. It practically spat out bottom-ranking Demon blood now.

Still, it only grumbled a little without resisting. Adrianna was right beside him.

Its thumping soon grew duller. Galahad reined in his mana, and the Egg of agony slowed as if responding.

Demons instinctively took Galahad for a high-ranking Demon. From what he had gathered, they seemed to place him somewhere between intermediate and high rank.

Galahad shoved his mana back into the Egg of agony. Having forcibly contained it, he glanced behind him.

The stupid helmet, Gilberton with his hand on his sword hilt, and Tom with his shield extended were all watching him. He addressed the rigid group.

“Don’t step in until I call you. That’s an order.”

Having spoken firmly, Galahad headed toward Gwen. The Demons were already close to her. They reached their hands out, trembling slightly with rapture.

“Now, now. This one is mine.”

Galahad caught the Demon’s hand as it reached for Gwen.

The Demon looked at Galahad. Its unfocused pupils sharpened.

Galahad let a little mana flow out. Calculating the resistance that came back, he adjusted its concentration until he reached a suitable level. It took only an instant.

‘My mana control has improved again.’

Galahad felt genuine admiration for his own talent. Then he met the Demon’s eyes and clicked his tongue.

“Would you wipe your drool? It’s disgusting.”

The Demons scowled, their eyes fixed on Gwen. They smacked their lips.

Unlike before, they didn’t ask a price. Instead, their gazes grew more sinister. Apparently, he now looked like a Demon they could handle.

‘Success.’

Galahad pulled Gwen along and turned away. He hurried toward an alley he had picked out beforehand. An alley in a city that was already eerie made for a truly excellent atmosphere.

GULP.

Hearing someone swallow behind him, Galahad instinctively knew he had succeeded.

A chilling sensation crept up from behind.

“Watch closely. Get this wrong, and it’ll be ‘Sorry, Damian’ for Damian.”

“‘Sorry, Damian’...?! What?!”

Galahad snapped his fingers. A compressed protective barrier appeared in front of him.

Something struck it.

‘Oh dear...’

He had made that barrier with fairly well-compressed mana. Yet it tore apart in an instant.

Galahad assessed the position and traces of the tear. It had been caused by mana honed to a razor edge.

‘An arrow shape.’

Galahad’s eyes narrowed at the searing pain in his shoulder. This was an authority he had never seen before. Its cutting power was exceptional for its concentration.

‘An authority purely for attacking?’

He glanced behind him. Gwen’s eyes were stretched impossibly wide. His blood had painted her face red.

Gwen cast magic according to her emotions. To draw out her abilities, stirring those emotions was efficient.

Having her commander helplessly take attacks right in front of her, for example.

“Are you all right?!”

Galahad nodded at her anguished cry.

“Gwen, get behind me.”

He pushed her to one side. She was behind him, but positioned where she could clearly see the Demons’ authority.

“Ah...”

“Watch closely.”

A Demon stepped forward. Galahad snapped his fingers.

The barrier tore apart again.

Gwen’s face grew redder still. A small scream escaped her, but Galahad’s attention was fixed ahead.

‘Interesting. Is this the origin of Mana Arrow?’

He examined the hole in his shoulder. The wound was deep.

Mana Arrow was an extremely basic spell. Less powerful than an actual arrow, it wasn’t even classified as offensive magic.

Yet when a Demon used it, its power was entirely different.

‘It feels more like honing the mana than compressing it.’

Mana wasn’t iron, yet it could be honed rather than compressed. This was a new concept. Galahad’s mind raced.

‘Interesting.’

His lips curved into a broad smile. He strained to keep his eyes open, determined not to miss this delight by blinking.

Another arrow struck the barrier. Even though he had compressed it further, it tore apart just as easily.

‘Quite a rate of fire. It really is like Mana Arrow.’

Searing pain flared in his shoulder again, but Galahad’s smile only widened.

Honing mana...

Unable to contain himself, he laughed aloud.

* * *

A tiny hole opened in the broad back before her.

Hot blood splashed Gwen’s face.

Galahad did not falter in the slightest.

Gwen had thought he would find some way to handle this. He was Galahad, after all.

Yet that very Galahad was bleeding.

To shield her.

‘Sir Gilberton... Tom...’

Gwen looked around, but there was no one in sight. Only thick, hellish ash.

She could expect no help from anyone.

Then...

“Heh heh...”

A low groan came from in front of her. The broad back shook violently.

Commander Galahad himself was groaning.

Gwen’s heart plummeted.

‘What am I supposed to do with that...?’

She forced herself to focus and stared at the Demons. She concentrated so hard tears ran from her eyes, but she could see nothing.

Something simply flew toward them and punched holes in Galahad.

Gwen struggled even with magic. How on earth was she supposed to imitate a Demon’s power?

[“Take my hand. I shall grant you limitless power.”]

Her heart thumped as a sweet voice reached her. It was as soft as an angel’s.

The sound came from Galahad’s back. More precisely, from the hole punched into it.

[“Take my hand. I shall grant you power. Worship me.”]

The voice was clearer than before.

[“Your desperate wish has reached me.”]

It felt a little dangerous, but she was in no position to be choosy.

Biting her lip, Gwen moved her hand.

POP.

Her finger plunged into Galahad’s back.