Pen and Paper Translations

‘Did he not hear me?’

Seeing the hero just staring blankly at him without a word, Reinhild grew impatient.

Rexion, who had been called “hero” from the moment he was born, did not yet know: he could only wield power as a true hero after the official oracle descended.

The Demon King’s castle was not a place ordinary humans could come.

Only demonfolk and an officially recognized hero were permitted to enter. Before the oracle descended, not even Rexion could have reached the Demon King’s castle…

…if the Demon King Reinhild had not allowed it.

Using the excuse that the hero had come to visit, Reinhild had opened the path leading here so he could escape the Demon King’s castle.

If the butler found out, he might scold him, but so what!

He always thought this, but surely even the Demon God was praising this headstrong behavior. What problem could there be with a Demon King doing as he pleased?

Yet the state of the hero he had let into the castle despite being ready to be scolded by the butler was decidedly strange.

If you’re spoken to, you should answer; why was he wearing such a foolish expresXion?

‘He isn’t a broken hero, is he?’

That would be bad.

Reinhild hadn’t donned splendid clothes, tidied his hair, and even left the door open to welcome a hero whose wits were gone.

He had even prepared opening lines and practiced them over and over.

He had delivered his first words magnificently and the whelp of a hero said nothing at all.

‘Is he scared of my majesty?’

Ah, if so, he had no choice but to understand.

If he was a newly born hero whelp, he deserved praise simply for not collapsing before the Demon King’s majesty.

Reinhild once more smiled proudly and flicked a hand so his robe fluttered.

It wasn’t an act with any great meaning. He merely wanted to show off the fine robe he had prepared for his first appearance as Demon King.

Rexion couldn’t take his eyes off Reinhild’s every movement.

The Demon King’s smile as he slowly cut through the air on his way down looked prouder and happier than anything in the world.

The Demon King raised his right hand with elegance.

He considered that it might be a signal to attack, but Rexion didn’t move a muscle.

Even if the Demon King swung his hand as-is and brought lightning down on his head, he wanted to take it all with his whole body.

This feeling was the first of his life.

His heart pounded; his ears burned.

He couldn’t look away.

He remembered the words the duke had shouted countless times over the past decade.

Rexion, you are chosen. You must devote the rest of your life to fighting the Demon King, and your glorious fate is to face the Demon King all your life.

For the first time since he was born, Rexion gave thanks to the Chief God.

Had someone other than himself been the one to devote his whole life to facing the Demon King, he would have gone straight to him and torn him apart.

“O Demon King.”

The hero’s first words to the Demon King were trembling to the utmost.

Reinhild felt proud of that fact.

So even an arrogant little hero felt fear and quaked before the Demon King’s majesty.

As a Demon King, he ought to lop off the hero’s head, but he had no leisure to do that now. Having stepped outside the Demon King’s castle for the first time in his life, he was already at his limit just holding back the urge to throw his arms around the hero’s neck and cry out his thanks.

For today, Reinhild could be generous to the hero and to humans.

Moreover, hearing the hero’s manner of speaking in person, which sounded more courteous than he’d expected, Reinhild tilted his chin as if to say, go on, speak.

“What should I call you?”

Hmm. He had heard that humans exchanged names and settled on forms of address when they first met.

But he hadn’t realized that etiquette would apply between a Demon King and a hero.

‘I can at least tell him my name.’

He knew the hero’s name anyway.

“Reinhild.”

“Rein. Reinhild.”

The hero murmured Reinhild’s name over and over.

“My name is Rexion.”

“For a human, that’s rather grand. And I don’t like that it ambiguously overlaps with mine. I’ll call you Xion.”

A nickname at a first meeting… what remarkable progress.

Xion resolved that no one but Reinhild would be allowed to call him Xion.

He liked it far better than the lousy name the duke had given him. When he died, he would have “Xion West” carved on his tombstone.

“The reason I’ve come here is…”

“Ah, never mind that. Come stand over here a moment. If you stand there, the butler won’t see you.”

Reinhild hurriedly descended to the ground and tugged Xion aside.

Having almost confessed on reflex, Xion came to his senses thanks to that. He should have approached slowly so as not to startle the Demon King; he had nearly blundered.

“Ha. With the outside air so thick with demonic energy and he still won’t let me open the window. What a stingy butler.”

Xion kept watching as Reinhild chattered on with his small lips. Just looking at him made his heart race.

Had he fallen into the Demon King’s scheme? Had he fallen under some strange magic that kept him from attacking or disliking the Demon King?

Even if that were so, he found he would welcome even that. Even if this were some Demon King’s trick, it didn’t matter.

Xion liked this trembling he felt toward the Demon King. He wanted to keep feeling it.

To do that, the Demon King would have to be by his side.

Then he would make it so.

Even if this feeling was fake, Xion was confident he could make Reinhild feel the same toward him.

And what the Demon King would come to harbor would be a genuine feeling with not a trace of falsehood.

‘I’ll have to come prepared.’

He had been far too complacent.

The Demon King’s castle was not a place to come carrying only a sword.

He should have studied more, researched more, and thought through many things before coming.

As he was now, he had nothing about him that would appeal to Reinhild.

Though he regretted parting from the Demon King, Xion decided to turn back here for today.

“Knowing your name is enough. Then I’ll take my leave…”

“You’re going?”

Reinhild, who had been repeatedly glancing toward the castle, turned to Xion in a hurry.

In those eyes, which plainly begged him not to go, Xion nearly answered by embracing him and vowing to lay his bones on this spot.

Had he not possessed a mind strong enough to stand against the Demon King, he would already have sunk to his knees before him.

Xion clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his skin and only just managed a nod.

Reinhild lowered his head in regret.

“You’ll come again, right?”

“Yes.”

Xion answered in half a second, without the slightest hesitation.

‘The Demon King… Reinhild wants me to come back.’

Was this what it felt like to float on clouds?

For the past eighteen years, whenever anyone uttered such sentimental words, Xion had done nothing but sneer, yet now he felt he could weave what he was feeling into sweet phrasing and publish it as a book. (T/N: Lmao, he’s down bad y’all)

He couldn’t clearly remember how he got home afterward.

Had he even said goodbye to Reinhild?

He couldn’t remember.

He thought he had smiled brightly at the words that they would meet again soon… Was that just his imagination?

Did Demon Kings smile at all, anyway? Weren’t Demon Kings beings who always wore arrogant expressions and slaughtered humans with brutal cruelty?

Come to think of it, all the information about the Demon King had been planted by his father, the Duke of West. And Xion did not trust the Duke of West.

If he was a man who would rewrite history wholesale, what reason would he have to tell the truth about the Demon King?

From that moment on, Xion decided to trust no one.

The only things he trusted were himself and Reinhild.

Xion could not sleep that night.

Xion, who had always fallen asleep at the same time and awakened at the same time, stayed up all night with his eyes open for the first time since he was born.

Reinhild had given him the pretty nickname Xion.

It didn’t feel polite to keep calling him “the Demon King.”

After some thought, Xion decided to give him a private form of address too—just between the two of them.

“…Rein.”

From today, he decided to call him Rein.

Rein. Reinhild.

My Demon King.

Xion was satisfied with everything.

He wanted to be appointed as the official hero as soon as possible.

Only then could he devote all his time to Reinhild as he pleased.

❖ ❖ ❖

By chance, Reinhild, who had been spying on Xion’s room through the crystal orb, was startled at the voice that rang out in the quiet room.

Rein.

It was clearly a word calling him.

‘Has he realized I’m watching?’

Quick-witted hero brat.

Seeing him today so dignified and composed even before the Demon King, he hadn’t seemed ordinary. Up to now Reinhild had let it slide, but now that they were acquainted, it was clearly a warning that he would no longer tolerate his voice being eavesdropped on.

Reinhild cut off the supply of mana to the crystal orb that had let him hear Xion’s voice for years.

The crystal lost its light and went dark.

Never again would Xion’s voice be heard from that sphere.

That was fine. From now on he could see the real thing.

He’d said he would come again.

‘Now I’m going to be free.’

And so, the Demon King and the hero each passed the happiest day since their birth, dreaming of different futures.