Chapter 74 - Growl

The Demon city was filled with ash and an acrid smell. It resembled the Demon Realm they had entered before, except that the Demons were more densely packed here. And here and there, humans mingled among them.

Galahad glanced behind him. The battle between the two houses was growing. All of House Vance had rushed out, whereas House Proxel had held some of its forces back, creating a curious balance. Vance had the advantage in numbers, but Proxel's authority, which pooled their strength, actually allowed them to press the attack. More precisely, two sword-wielding Proxel Demons were driving back the rest of Vance.

'Strength really is absolute among Demons.'

Galahad slipped a cigarette between his lips.

Unlike before, there was a palpable fervor among the Demons. The blood spilling in the battle behind them seemed to have excited them. The once-quiet city was gradually waking up.

HIC!

At the small sound, he turned to find his unit members looking thoroughly tense. They could hardly help it. They had been thrown into a place crawling with Demons.

"Don't worry. Everything is going according to plan."

The corners of Galahad's mouth lifted as he spoke. He continued toward the Proxel mansion.

Unlike before, the mansion was quiet. Its gates stood open.

'Just like real nobles.'

With a quiet chuckle, Galahad walked on.

"Are we just going in like this?"

Gilberton's urgent voice stopped him.

"Nineteen have left. Twelve remain, but they're likely the core force. And there will be hidden troops as well. The gourmets, for instance."

"Isn't that just an estimate?"

"It is. But they can't afford to take Vance lightly, either. They must have deployed as many troops as possible. This is our best chance."

Galahad rolled his shoulder slightly. Despite having had a hole punched through it, he felt no pain. That seemed to be the Egg of agony's doing rather than the hardiness of a Mage's body. Gilberton muttered something while looking at his own fingers, then nodded.

"In any case, you're saying we can do this?"

"Yes. It's a little dangerous, but isn't everything in life?"

Galahad looked past Gilberton. The ridiculous helmet rattled softly.

"Their authority funnels strength into a single individual. Taking out the others will make things easier. Now, any questions?"

The unit members remained silent. Galahad nodded in satisfaction.

"Oh, rookie, don't move until I give the signal. All right, let's go in."

Without hesitation, he passed through the open gates.

The garden was desolate. Someone had apparently made an effort, though; rotting plants lay scattered everywhere. Galahad quietly looked up at the mansion. It was three stories tall. There were no guards, not even the usual token ones. No one came to greet them, either.

Circulating his mana, Galahad approached the mansion. Even after entering the ground floor, he encountered no one. He released a little mana. His now-familiar, so-called Demon detection spell swept through the floor. There were no Demons on the ground floor, nor on the second. He encountered his first Demon at the foot of the stairs leading to the third.

The Demon was smartly dressed. With his stylish mustache and monocle, he made an excellent imitation of a noble. His clothes weren't bad, either.

"I don't recall sending an invitation. How rude."

"Bold, rather," Galahad replied lightly.

'At least intermediate-ranking.'

Having encountered quite a few Demons, he could now make a rough assessment. This one was at least intermediate-ranking.

"I didn't expect you to follow him all the way here. Galahad, was it?"

The Demon knew who he was.

'A trap?'

Galahad narrowed his eyes. These creatures were meticulous in their preparations. They might have prepared a trap specifically for him and Gilberton.

That wasn't a problem.

'We have Adrianna.'

The problem would come when Adrianna revealed herself. Demons sensitive to mana might notice her. Their foremost priority was to avoid provoking the city's ruler. If that creature happened to discover Adrianna's presence...

'That introduces a variable.'

They had to keep her concealed as much as possible.

"Indeed. I am the famous Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit."

"I am Helsington of House Proxel. You must be here to see Damian."

"Yes. Is he well?"

"Very well indeed. Hmm..."

The Demon hummed thoughtfully for a moment. His manner was relaxed, as though he were considering something.

"Would you like to see Damian?"

Galahad quietly studied him. Neatly slicked-back hair, a slightly oversized felt hat, a monocle, a sword at his waist. Taking the Demon's reach and height into account, he gauged the distance.

'Check on Damian first.'

He nodded.

"Certainly."

The Demon turned around, presenting the sleek back of his head. Galahad flicked his fingers repeatedly. They arrived before an enormous door.

"This way."

The Demon gave the door a gentle push.

Inside was a long table fit for a banquet hall, covered in scraps of meat and bread. Even a cursory glance revealed Damian's handiwork.

'He certainly ate a lot.'

Galahad flicked his fingers again.

Beyond it stood an enormous bed. Damian lay on its soft mattress, his belly bulging from all he had eaten. Galahad clicked his tongue and spoke.

"Damian."

Normally, once Damian fell asleep, nothing could wake him for half a day. Now his eyes flew open, and he sprang upright.

"Galahad?"

He blinked at Galahad, as though trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Yes, it's me. You have to apply for leave first, you know. You can't simply go off on your own."

Clicking his tongue softly, Galahad approached Damian. The boy's once-scrawny frame had filled out a little, and his face gleamed with grease. He seemed to have been doing quite well.

"I just woke up here."

Just then, the door opened. A neatly dressed old man entered. He wore a gentle smile, but there wasn't a trace of warmth to it. He looked at Galahad. Merely meeting his gaze made Galahad's hair stand on end. A strong scent of waterlogged wood filled the air.

'This is a little awkward.'

He was a more formidable opponent than expected. Damian trembled slightly. Only then did Galahad realize why the boy had drawn back.

'High-ranking or above.'

Galahad glanced at Adrianna. He recalled how easily she had disposed of a high-ranking Demon in the Demon Realm. That one, however, had specialized in mental powers. This old man was certainly stronger in combat. And factoring in their authority to concentrate their strength...

'Hmm. Not good.'

Galahad clicked his tongue softly.

The Demon named Helsington bowed his head to the old man. The old man's gaze traveled up and down Galahad, a peculiar craving rising in his eyes. Then his gaze locked onto Gwen.

"Oh, how delicious."

The old man's words were obscene. Amusingly, Galahad was thinking much the same thing as he looked at him.

The old man reached out. After a brief tremor, Damian nestled into his arms. To all appearances, they were an affectionate grandfather and grandson. Damian's eyes grew utterly unfocused.

"Damian, it's time to go back."

"I can't."

Galahad frowned at Damian's firm answer. It was far too clear-cut for him. Damian said he was hungry or sleepy; he didn't give such lucid replies. In that case, Galahad needed to recalculate. He flicked his fingers.

"Does that answer your question?"

The corners of the old man's mouth had lifted ever so slightly.

'He wants us to leave quietly.'

More precisely, he seemed intent on avoiding a fight. The old man was wary of Galahad. He seemed wary of the Special Operations Unit. Their previous failure against the unit had apparently left quite an impression.

'Did he show us Damian to persuade us to give up?'

Damian really was in good condition, and they had even been shown him saying he didn't want to leave. On top of that, the old man had subtly displayed his power. Clearly, he meant to make them give up. He seemed reluctant to cause unnecessary trouble. The war with House Vance was probably part of it, but...

'There seems to be something more. Something quite significant, for a Demon of his caliber to put on an act.'

Galahad quickly reviewed the situation.

'At least I've confirmed Damian is unharmed.'

More than unharmed, in fact. Damian was living quite comfortably.

'No need to take the difficult route.'

Galahad tapped the ash from his cigarette and nodded.

"I see."

He picked up his canteen and rose.

"No need to see us out."

His calculations complete, he turned away without hesitation.

* * *

Gwen hurried after Galahad. He strode along without a word. His legs were so long that she practically had to run to keep up.

'Damian...'

Damian had looked quite comfortable lying with his head on the Demon's lap. Gwen knew Demons were accursed beings, but seeing him like that left her conflicted.

Damian really was eating well and living comfortably. His face shone with grease, and his belly bulged. They even called him the young heir. Seeing him that way, Gwen didn't know what to do. Was that place his home?

"Are we just leaving like this?"

Gilberton shouted in frustration.

"Just leaving? How like you to say that, Sir Gilberton."

Gwen spoke before she knew it.

"But he seems to be doing well!"

Galahad turned his gaze toward her. His eyes were as impassive as ever.

"In a Demon's arms? Don't be ridiculous. Would you leave a plump little piglet alone if you saw it rolling around among wolves?"

His eyes moved rapidly, searching up and down for something. Gwen couldn't back down. She knew better than anyone how precious parents were to a child.

"Damian said he didn't want to leave."

"First of all, Damian didn't say he didn't want to. He said he couldn't. There's a very clear difference."

As always, Galahad's voice was filled with unwavering certainty. Gwen felt a little relieved.

"Besides, once someone joins the Special Operations Unit, they can never leave without my permission. Once a member, always a member. Oh, that applies to all of you, too."

CLATTER.

Gwen turned toward the sound beside her. Noad, the rookie, was shaking that helmet. It stopped abruptly under her gaze. There was something rather dim about the rookie.

"Hmm. My calculations were off. That old man they call their house head is quite formidable. Enough to make Damian that articulate. We'll have to change our approach. First, some pruning."

"Pruning?"

"Like this."

Galahad pointed somewhere. A long cut opened in the wall, revealing a wide-eyed Demon in the gap.

"There's our first. Sir Gilberton."

"Insolent...!"

Before the Demon could say anything more, Gilberton's sword slit its throat. Blood sprayed in a long arc. There wasn't the slightest hesitation in his blade.

"Well done, Sir Gilberton. Dear me, I thought I said there was no need to see us out."

"Foolish humans always cause trouble."

The voice came from the other side. It was the Demon who had guided them earlier. He drew his sword and pointed it at Galahad. Even to Gwen, who knew nothing about swords, it was ornate and splendid. Smartly dressed figures emerged behind the Demon, so numerous that they filled the corridor. Gwen swallowed at the prickling sensation against her skin.

"Would you be so kind as to become sacrifices without a fuss?"

The Demon addressed Galahad politely.

"Sacrifices?!"

When the Demon looked at her, Gwen hastily hid behind Galahad.

"Would you explain?"

The glow of his cigarette faintly illuminated Galahad's expressionless face. His fingers flicked, and his lips murmured something quietly.

"Hmm. A stupid human clearly won't understand even if he hears it, but this is a joyous day, so I shall oblige."

"Thank you. Just what I'd expect of Proxel."

The man raised a hand. The sword-bearing figures stopped where they were. An uneasy standoff settled over them.

"That creature is something Proxel created..."

At that moment, Galahad snapped his fingers. There was only a faint sound. A tiny flame flew toward the Demon, who hurriedly swung his sword. The blade pierced the flame.

BOOOOM!

The flame erupted violently. Swelling into a long jet, it swallowed the Demon and everyone behind him in one sweep. Searing heat swept through the corridor.

"Aaaaaaagh!!"

Only then did a terrible scream ring out. The smell of burning flesh stung their noses.

...!

When the flames vanished, the Demon was gone. Nothing remained but pitch-black ash. A heavy silence descended.

"You talk too much."

Galahad tapped the ash from his cigarette as he muttered.

'Didn't you ask him?'

Horrified gazes turned toward Galahad. He frowned at them.

"Aren't you going to work?"

At that rebuke...

"Knight Gilberton!"

Gilberton's sword blazed blue.

* * *

"It's noisy downstairs."

The old man glanced down and clicked his tongue. Young people these days had no refinement whatsoever.

'I thought that one was a little different.'

A human after all, then. The old man furrowed his brows.

'His scent was strong.'

The old man muttered as he recalled the creature called Galahad. His scent was so potent that even the old man had been confused. No wonder those sent last time had fallen to him. But that was all he amounted to.

'We are Proxel.'

Proxel never lost within its domain. Though this was a makeshift domain established after they had been relegated to a branch family, they were still Proxel. They could not lose.

Originally, he had intended to kill them in front of Damian the moment they met, severing the boy's last remaining tie to humanity. But this Galahad was a troublesome opponent. And the one behind him in that ridiculous helmet... The old man couldn't get a read on that one. That was why he had sent them away.

The foolish House Vance had already caused enough commotion. Escalating matters here might draw the ruler's attention. That could ruin everything. That was why he had sent them away, and yet...

'The stupid human doesn't know his place. Now he's causing trouble.'

The old man frowned.

Just then, he felt a strange sense of something missing. He hurriedly deployed his authority.

This was...

'Helsington is gone?'

His eyes narrowed. It had happened faster than he had expected. He turned his head.

"How much longer until the preparations are complete?!"

"They are complete."

At the report from beside him, the old man rose.

Damian, a child whose scent was equal parts revolting and sweet, was looking up at him. There was a trace of something displeasing in that gaze.

"Get up."

Damian rose in a daze. The filthy human blood making up half his heritage complicated matters somewhat, but Proxel blood still ran in his veins. He could not defy the old man's words.

BOOM!

Another deafening crash rang out. The old man's face twisted as anxiety rose within him. To think that he was feeling anxious... The crease between his brows deepened.

"We will perform the succession first."

The old man grabbed Damian by the scruff of his neck.

"Once the succession is complete, that insolent human, the creature strutting about as ruler, and the main-house bastards who dared cast me out will all bow to Proxel."

At the old man's murmured words, the Demon who had delivered the report bowed deeply.

GRRRR.

Just then, a loud sound came from Damian's stomach.

'Again? After all we fed him?'

The old man scowled.

For a perfect succession, all lingering desires had to be erased. However...

BOOOOM!

That sense of something missing struck again. In that brief interval, their number had fallen by one more.

'Again?!'

It wasn't perfect, but...

'It's only hunger. This much is acceptable.'

His blood was purer than that of this half-breed, after all.