Five hundred years ago was when Reinhild had no need to struggle merely to survive, and no reason to risk his life for humans.
Reinhild, known as the strongest Demon King in history, was spending days more tedious than one might think.
“Ha, I’m bored.”
An arrogant, self-absorbed, beautiful Demon King who regarded every being other than himself as vermin.
That was the appraisal of Reinhild.
The demonfolk worshiped such a Reinhild.
For the demonfolk, the most important thing was power, the only the overwhelming power to sweep humans away at once.
Reinhild possessed such power.
Arrogance could not be a blemish on the Demon King Reinhild. Looking down on all others was an excellent virtue in a Demon King.
The demonfolk cried out:
At last, the greatest Demon King had come into the world.
“Ah~ I’m bored!”
So what? Reinhild was merely bored.
That day, too, Reinhild sprawled alone on a bed so wide that even if you brought ten demons and held a dance party, no one would bump into anyone.
What good is having great power if there’s nowhere to unleash it?
“Why won’t they let me go outside?”
Reinhild had many complaints.
For all the times they listed and praised the advantages of great power, the demonfolk held Reinhild back from going out to torment humans.
What’s the point of having power if they won’t let me use it!
Weren’t they the ones who said how wonderful it was that a Demon King had appeared who would sweep away the humans? Then why wouldn’t they give him the chance to sweep them away!
Bang, bang!
He drummed on the blameless bed, and a very crisp, clear sound rang out.
Reinhild glared at the needlessly luxurious blanket that wouldn’t show a single wrinkle no matter how hard he pounded it.
A mere blanket won’t even crease?
What he really wanted was to bunch it up in both hands and crumple it into a wad. He restrained himself because the blanket had done nothing wrong.
Gathering the blanket into his arms, he buried his face in it and grumbled.
“I’m bored. Really bored. When is the hero coming?”
“He will come soon, Lord Reinhild.”
The butler of the Demon King’s castle only ever repeated the same words.
The hero will come.
He’ll be here soon.
He’ll be here any moment.
If you wait just a little longer, he’ll come.
But even after waiting years, the hero did not come.
How much longer was he supposed to wait!
“Can’t I just wipe out the humans while there’s no hero? That would be far more efficient. I’ll go and cleanly wipe them out and come back.”
“That will not do. The Demon King threatens the world the hero guards, and the hero opposes the Demon King. That is this world’s rule.”
“What Demon King follows rules point by point? Aren’t demons here precisely to ignore all that and act as they please?”
“There is sense in Your Lordship’s words. But it still may not be.”
“What do you mean ‘it may not be’?”
“As you say, we demonfolk make a virtue of breaking rules…. However, the one and only rule that ‘a Demon King may act only after the hero has appeared in the world’ was set by the Demon God…”
“The Demon God made a pact with the Chief God. I know, I know. But if I even break the rule set by the Demon God, wouldn’t that make me an even grander Demon King? Perhaps the Demon God secretly expects me to break it. Rules, contracts, promises exist to be broken, don’t they?”
“That is sophistry.”
Reinhild felt like he was going to lose his mind from frustration.
He had the title of Demon King in name only. It felt like doing time.
Since being born a Demon King, he had not once acted to his heart’s content.
Even merely stepping out to the front courtyard of the castle was bound tight with restrictions. The windows were sealed shut; even taking in the outside air was not permitted.
Reinhild was no different from a dog kept tied up at the Demon King’s castle.
Not a Demon King, a dog!
‘I’m going to go crazy.’
Rolling back and forth on the bed, Reinhild pressed himself to the window and looked outside.
Down below, two owlbears, claws bared, were fighting over territory. Listening to the owlbears’ roars, it sounded roughly like they were shouting, “Kuo—ooo!”
For quite a while Reinhild watched the owlbears rake and tear at each other’s hides with their claws.
‘They look close.’
Watching the owlbears running free outside the castle in the distance, his heart felt at ease.
Good for you. Mere weak monsters, and you’re free.
‘If only the hero would appear, everything would be resolved.’
Demon King and hero were inseparable. It was only natural that when a Demon King appeared in the world, a hero would be chosen.
Yet for years now, no hero had appeared.
It was all because of that human family called West, or whatever.
Because for years the Duke West had failed to produce an heir!
The hero is invariably chosen as the eldest son of the ducal house of West.
This rule had not changed since the world’s creation and the first appearances of the Demon King and the hero.
It was a law established by the Chief God who made the hero.
They say there are even cases recorded in human histories where an outsider, not of House West, was the hero.
But that was merely manipulation by House West to cut out heroes with poor records or behavior that would smear the family name. The hero is always chosen from the first blood of the ducal house of West.
A Demon King had been born, yet House West did not have a successor ready. This was the first time.
Because of that, Reinhild had become, without precedent, a Demon King shut up in the Demon King’s castle.
‘Bound by rules. The Demon King and the hero are the same.’
Chief God, Demon God, whichever. He felt like a piece being made to run around a chessboard they had laid out.
It was extremely displeasing.
But now, displeasure aside, he was so bored he thought he would go mad.
At this point he could understand the Demon God. He wished they would at least let him take one trip to the forest out front.
Whether their territorial fight had ended or not, he wanted to barge in among the owlbears who were now climbing trees together as if they had never fought and goad them into fighting again.
No, even just once, to be able to breathe in the outside air to his heart’s content would be nice.
Reinhild decided to lay all the blame on the ducal house of West.
What on earth were they doing that they were neglecting the reproductive activities all humans were said to enjoy?
“Is there still no news of an heir from that human Duke West?”
“Not yet.”
“Isn’t the human who is currently duke, strictly speaking, also the ducal house’s eldest son? Why can’t that human be the hero?”
“The moment he wed, he was stripped of eligibility. Had Your Lordship appeared in the world a little earlier, that man would have been the hero, but the timing was off. Nothing can be done.”
“Then count that human as disqualified. Can’t the next child become the hero? If the first is off the list, count the second human as the first.”
“He is not the firstborn.”
“Picky.”
Troublesome humans. They were of no help.
Was there nothing for it but to wait until the descendant of that wretched human who went ahead and got married before the Demon King appeared was born?
Having dared to get married with the Demon King in play, they should be thinking to produce the next bloodline quickly. How dare they make the Demon King this bored?
It was infuriating.
Why wouldn’t the humans wait for the Demon King to appear?
He well understood that not every generation saw the birth of a Demon King and that they couldn’t wait forever. But even so, couldn’t they at least wait a few dozen years more?
Humans’ patience, as short as their lifespans, drove the Demon King mad.
What was so great about living one’s whole life with another that merely staying under one roof wasn’t enough? They had to sign papers and stick on a grand name like “marriage” or whatever?
It was annoying that a mere piece of paper could block his path.
I don’t need any of it. Hand over the hero.
Let me out.
“How far along is my hero?”
“As he does not yet exist, the concept of ‘coming’ does not apply.”
“I know, I know. I mean I want him to be born quickly. I want the hero to be born so I can wipe out the humans.”
“To sweep away the humans, you must first defeat the hero.”
“That much is easy.”
“You must not be complacent, Lord Reinhild. The hero is invariably born with force equal to that of the Demon King of his era. However vast the power you harbor, he will be just as strong.”
He had no interest in how strong the hero was.
With a crestfallen look, Reinhild gazed out the window. In the distance, he saw a few demonfolk slipping out of the forest.
Were they going to torment humans? How fun it must be.
Lucky them. He wished he were just a demon, not the Demon King.
“Ha, this is no fun.”
Sighing heavily, Reinhild flopped back onto the bed.
Staring out the window only made him depressed.
“When will my hero come….”
At this rate, the histories weren’t going to record him as “the strongest Demon King,” but as “the Demon King confined to the castle the longest.”
Reinhild waited endlessly for the hero to be born.
The next day, and the day after that.
Continuously.
And then, some years later.
News of the birth of the successor to the ducal house of West reached the Demon King’s castle.
T/N: “When will ‘my’ hero come?” ;-; The longing…
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