Pen and Paper Translations

“He already knew?”

Reinhild, who had been trembling like a condemned man before the guillotine, calmed in an instant.

Once the confusion passed a certain threshold, even his body stopped shaking.

How on earth?

Was it because he didn’t know the greetings humans use? Because he acted suspicious when he followed Xion into town? Because he didn’t know proper table manners?

No matter how hard he thought, nothing came to mind.

At times like this, the best thing is to ask directly.

“Since when?”

Xion hugged the slack-jawed Reinhild tight and patted his back.

This gentle, unhurried manner was one of Xion’s many strengths, but right now Reinhild wished he’d answer a little faster.

When Reinhild stared at him, urging a reply, Xion finally smiled and answered.

“Since the very first time we met.”

“The first time we met?”

He knew the moment he laid eyes on him that he wasn’t human?

Maybe, just as Reinhild could tell demons from humans, humans could tell demons too?

But if that were true, other humans besides Xion should have sensed it. Among the people of Root Village and the townsfolk he’d seen, not a single one had been startled and cried out that Reinhild was a demon.

Not a single person.

Then did they all know he was a demon and simply act that way anyway?

No way.

When humans encountered demons, their reactions were one of two things:

Either they panicked and ran, or they attacked.

No matter how much the world had changed in five hundred years, there was no way it had changed so much that humans would greet a demon like it was nothing.

Then how did Xion realize I wasn’t human?

Reinhild sank back into thought.

What had happened the first time they met? He couldn’t quite remember.

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten. It was that he couldn’t recall it. Reinhild had lost consciousness and collapsed when he first met Xion.

But he doubted Xion would have realized just from looking at an unconscious body that he wasn’t human.

It wasn’t as if “demon” was written across his forehead.

His mana had been drained to almost nothing but a bare thread for survival, so that wouldn’t have given it away either.

So Xion must mean after Reinhild woke up.

What had happened then?

Hmm… at that time…

I think I smelled something delicious.

Reinhild conveniently omitted the part where he’d eyed Xion warily and hated him, remembering only the delicious food.

It made no sense that he could be identified as human or not just because they’d shared a meal.

No… maybe it does.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t impossible.

For starters, demons were fundamentally more refined and elegant than humans.

Just sitting there, he exuded poise. How could he not have considered that someone might take one look and think “demon”? How foolish of him.

In that case, does Xion know I’m a demon?

There’s as much difference between “not human” and “a demon” as there is between the Patron Deity and the Demon God.

If Xion had mistakenly pegged Reinhild as something less threatening to humans, like an elf or a beastkin, then once the truth came out, the sense of betrayal might be worse.

But if he’d recognized from Reinhild’s noble bearing that he wasn’t human, then of course he’d have guessed he was a demon.

No race could match demons for noble bearing.

He couldn’t know I’m the Demon King… could he?

Tilting his head, Reinhild searched Xion’s face.

He couldn’t read what Xion was thinking at all.

The only thing he could read was that Xion wasn’t the least bit shocked that Reinhild wasn’t human.

Right. Whether he knew the exact race or not, who cared? That didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Xion knew his true nature and was fine with it.

Even if he didn’t know Reinhild was the Demon King, it wasn’t a problem. He’d been chased out of the Demon King’s castle anyway; calling himself “Demon King” felt silly.

Reinhild’s mood soared; he broke into a bright grin.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“There is nothing that would make me hate Rein.”

Reinhild latched onto Xion’s arm and hung there.

So this was what you call a blessing in disguise.

The curse was still awful, and the pain had been dreadful, but the worry that had plagued Reinhild was resolved in an instant.

If I’d known it would be this simple, I’d have told him sooner.

Beaming, Reinhild headed back home.

Going out for a walk had been an excellent choice. Once he got his body moving, he could feel the stagnant mana slowly circulating again.

It seemed the mana that had snarled when he’d fumbled with the seal was finally settling down. Not that there was much left to snarl. It had all but evaporated.

It gathers, then scatters; gathers, then scatters… what is this?

Well, at least he was alive.

Who knew staying alive would be this hard. Five hundred years ago he wouldn’t have believed it.

Still, if his mana was stabilizing, then with proper control his body would return to normal.

It would be exhausting and painful, but if he missed this window, the mana could twist beyond untangling and never recover.

“Rein.”

“Yeah?”

Xion came over as Reinhild was taking off his outer layer and fastened something around his neck.

A mana stone?

It was a size larger than the one he’d worn before… about a finger joint bigger.

The thought that Xion had gone out of his way to get him a mana stone put Reinhild in an unreasonably good mood.

And the timing was perfect.

If he’d put on a mana stone while his mana circuits were tangled, it would only have backfired. With mana suddenly flooding in, his body wouldn’t have withstood it—he wouldn’t have gotten off with merely taking to his bed.

Conversely, if he’d gotten the stone any later, its effect would have dropped off sharply.

Right now was optimal.

He’d just moved his body; the pea-sized bits of mana were scurrying around trying to survive.

With the stone’s help, he could stabilize his mana and, with luck, even greatly amplify it.

It was ridiculously fortunate timing…

…Was it really luck?

Reinhild turned his eyes to Xion.

Xion had been keeping the mana-stone necklace on his person the whole time.

That didn’t look like luck; it looked like Xion had chosen the moment to hand it over.

But what would a country farmer know?

Knocking out a feeble hero with an umbrella was something even a farmer could manage. Farm work gave you plenty of strength.

Reinhild was confident Xion could subdue him in a flash, and the hero, who was about on Reinhild’s current level, getting chased off by a single umbrella whack didn’t seem odd.

But understanding mana? That was odd.

Didn’t Xion say he’d always lived in Root?

A Root village native with a house in the city.

Rich.

Knowledgeable about mana depletion and the ways to recover.

None of it fit a simple country farmer.

Only then did Reinhild realize there was a lot more he didn’t know about Xion than he’d thought.

“Xion—”

He started to speak, then shut his mouth again.

Xion asked what was wrong, but Reinhild shook his head hard as if it were nothing.

Xion had said something like this once before:

That where Reinhild had been and what he had done before didn’t matter.

What mattered was now.

What matters is now…

Back then Xion had asked if Reinhild had anything he wanted to know about him. If Reinhild had asked, Xion would have told him everything.

Xion wouldn’t lie.

But Reinhild had let that chance pass.

A Demon King does sometimes speak out of both sides of his mouth.

He had to deceive humans and practice guile, after all.

But he didn’t want to do that to Xion.

What matters is the Xion of now.

Even if Xion was hiding something, could it be more than Reinhild?

Whatever secrets Xion held, they couldn’t be more shocking than Reinhild being the Demon King.

Besides, unlike Reinhild, who kept his identity tightly hidden, Xion wasn’t hiding—he had simply not said.

If he understands mana well, that’s a good thing!

Reinhild decided not to worry about anything Xion might be keeping to himself.

Where Xion had been and what he had done didn’t matter at all.

What mattered was that he was here with Reinhild, taking his hand whenever he needed it.

That he was a human who would never leave his side, no matter what.

Nothing mattered more.

Instead of questioning him, Reinhild flashed Xion a bright smile.

❖ ❖ ❖

“I’m not going to get sick anymore.”

He wouldn’t make Xion worry again.

That night, lying in bed, Reinhild gripped the mana stone on his necklace with both hands and drew mana from it.

He tried to drain the stone completely, but maybe because he wasn’t yet in top condition, that was too much.

Even so, he managed to empty about half the mana packed into the fairly large stone.

Satisfied, he went to sleep in high spirits.

And the next morning.

Waking earlier than usual, Reinhild reached for the stone at his throat out of habit.

Fiddling with it sleepily, he felt something odd and checked the necklace.

“Huh? Why is this…?”

The stone was brimming with mana.

As if brand new.