“Are you tricking me?”
Could there be anything more ridiculous?
When Xion first suggested mana absorption, Reinhild had thought there might be some scheme behind it. But he never imagined this kind of ploy.
He’d only assumed the hero, whose power opposed the Demon King’s, thought Reinhild would weaken if he absorbed the hero’s mana.
Absorbing a small amount of mana only caused indigestion. It did Reinhild no harm, so he didn’t care.
He knew full well that a Demon King absorbing mana out of a desire for the hero to get better made no sense whatsoever.
He also knew that mana absorption could tell you only whether the other person’s mana had abnormalities. It had no ability to cure them.
Even so, he’d agreed to Xion’s proposal thinking he’d tease him for his wild imagination.
But to find out that among humans this wasn’t “mana absorption” at all, but counted as a kind of reproductive act…
‘I never imagined he had that kind of scheme.’
His downfall was looking down on humans so much that he hadn’t bothered to investigate.
No wonder Xion kept dragging out what should have needed no more than the lightest touch of lips.
Sometimes he rubbed his lips and tried all sorts of things. Reinhild had assumed he was straining to attempt mana absorption that wouldn’t work, and let it be.
Because the weak little hero seemed pitiful.
But to have been doing something that vulgar to the Demon King!
A mere human!
‘He was making a fool of me.’
He was surely laughing at ignorant Reinhild and deluding himself that he had the upper hand.
Outrageous!
Infuriating!
“How should I pay that hero wretch back?”
Reinhild thought it over seriously.
Should he send demonfolk to lure Xion here and, in the meantime, lay the capital to utter waste?
While Xion, still puzzled by the Demon King’s empty castle and on his way home, Reinhild would already have laid waste to everything even Xion’s family seat, the ducal castle.
‘Xion’s face would be worth seeing, wouldn’t it?’
Not knowing that Xion wouldn’t even bat an eye if the ducal castle fell, Reinhild amused himself with the fantasy.
Clunk.
At least until Xion crawled up through the secret passage.
“Rein. I’m here.”
“Hmph. Crafty human.”
With so many guilty consciences to pick from, Xion wondered which of his secrets had been exposed this time to annoy Reinhild.
“Let’s see what you injured today before brazenly crawling in.”
Ah, so that was it.
He’d hoped it wouldn’t be found out for as long as possible. A shame.
“I’m neither injured nor in pain today.”
Reinhild narrowed his eyes and glared at Xion as if that were even more suspicious.
“Our agreement was to meet once every three months.”
“That was the promise that I would come without fail when you sent demonfolk, wasn’t it, Rein? Visits outside of that have nothing to do with our contract, so I haven’t broken the promise.”
“Really?”
Now that he heard it, it was true.
Their contract was that once every three months, when Reinhild sent a signal, they would spend time together. There was no clause saying Xion couldn’t come at other times.
If Xion had been breaking their promise and acting as he pleased, Reinhild had been ready to award him extra points for demonfolk-like conduct. But, true to being a hero, he was religiously keeping to the rules.
In that case, today’s Xion scored a zero.
Unaware he’d been marked with a zero, Xion smiled brightly and took out the boxed lunch he’d prepared for Reinhild.
From experience, even when Reinhild caught Xion’s preposterous lies, if Xion handed him food, his anger quickly cooled.
Shut in an empty Demon King’s castle with nothing to enjoy but eating, Reinhild couldn’t easily resist the lure of delicious food.
Sure enough, Reinhild perched on the edge of the bed and craned around Xion’s shoulder to peek.
Xion brought out his trump card: cream pie.
“All right, ten points!”
“Out of ten?”
What was he talking about?
By the Demon King’s standards, a perfect score is a thousand points.
“Is it good, Rein?”
“Yeah.”
By now, Reinhild must have grown comfortable with Xion. He no longer bothered acting the part of a dignified Demon King. At this point Xion even felt more comfortable than the steward.
Reinhild stretched his legs out on the bed and sat back at ease, eating the pie with his hands.
Crumbs fell onto the fine bedclothes, but no one cared about crumbs that would vanish with a flick of a hand anyway.
“So, did it feel good to fool the Demon King?”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
“What misunderstanding. It was all written in that book the steward brought me, ‘Everything About Humans That Demonfolk Don’t Know.’”
As expected, that demonfolk steward was the problem.
Xion seriously pondered whether Reinhild would be sad if the steward disappeared.
“Is the author of that book a demonfolk?”
“Of course. The Demon King doesn’t read books written by humans.”
“And the title was ‘Everything About Humans That Demonfolk Don’t Know,’ correct?”
“Right.”
“In that case, its contents should be things demonfolk don’t know.”
“Mm… that’s true.”
“And since the author is demonfolk, he too shouldn’t know what’s in the book, should he?”
“You’re saying it makes no sense that a demonfolk knew and wrote down things a demonfolk shouldn’t know, so the contents are fictitious?”
“Exactly.”
Now that he heard it, it was true.
With a grave expression, Reinhild nodded assent to Xion’s words.
“So among humans, kissing isn’t included as part of reproductive activity?”
It was a choice of words that neatly showed what demonfolk thought of humans.
But Xion couldn’t declare “no” outright. If he misspoke and a real opportunity for “reproductive activity” came along, he’d be in trouble.
When Xion failed to answer, Reinhild snorted as if to say, I knew it.
Trying to fool the Demon King, are we.
“If you come hurt again, I’ll throw a Fireball at you.”
“…I’ll refrain from it from now on.”
“That said, don’t stay away if you’re in pain.”
Xion froze at Reinhild’s unexpected response.
He thought he’d misheard.
Up to now, Xion had used being hurt or sick as a pretext to visit the Demon King’s castle with the excuse of asking to be “treated.” He had even let himself be bitten on purpose by an owlbear he could kill with a finger, or branded his own palm with fire first.
Kisses aside, he wanted to use that excuse to see Reinhild even one more time.
Now that the fact he’d deceived Reinhild had been exposed, he thought such pretexts would no longer work.
But “come if you’re in pain” was a roundabout way of saying he wanted Xion to keep coming, wasn’t it?
Could it be that Reinhild, too, wanted this relationship to progress?
Perhaps the mention of “reproductive activity,” and of mana absorption, had been his way of hinting there was no need for such pretexts.
“Rein…”
“Next time, cheesecake.”
Hm. It seemed he simply wanted something tasty.
Xion swallowed what he’d been about to say and quietly set the next dessert on the table.
❖ ❖ ❖
And so, once every three months.
Once a month.
Once a week.
And then, every day.
The interval between Xion’s visits to Reinhild grew shorter and shorter.
When Reinhild no longer needed to send demonfolk every three months, and stopped attacking the capital altogether, the people rejoiced.
They gave thanks that the hero was proactively going to the Demon King’s castle to battle him.
With the name of the West family’s treasure, Rexion West, the family’s fame skyrocketed beyond control.
To Xion himself, it was all whatever.
He was simply happy.
If he could have his way, he would hide Reinhild somewhere only he knew, and make him spend his whole life looking only at Xion. He refrained only because he didn’t want to see a resentful look on Reinhild’s face.
Then how about the reverse… what if he let himself be kidnapped?
Spending his life shut in the cage of that man’s keeping and breathing there would be good too. Reinhild would probably find even that a bother.
“I need to go see Rein.”
It had already been eight hours since he’d returned from the Demon King’s castle. Every time he drew a breath of clean air with not a trace of demonic energy, he missed Reinhild.
Xion sprang to his feet and grabbed his things.
“Where are you going?”
One of the members of the hero’s party stepped in front of him.
Had he known he’d waste time on this sort of thing, he wouldn’t have shared lodgings with his companions for the sake of being a “party.”
Most of the others were spending their time at the temple receiving treatment for their frequent battles and demonic-energy poisoning. So they rarely ran into each other.
But the mage before his eyes was strangely fine.
Not as unaffected as Xion, but he was almost untouched by the effects of demonic energy. As if he had some kind of immunity that humans should lack.
In a normal situation, one might suspect the other was of mixed demonfolk blood, wonder whether such a person should be allowed in a hero’s party, or whether he was a cat’s-paw of the demonfolk—but that wasn’t Xion’s concern now.
He was simply annoyed that the mage was blocking the road that led to Reinhild.
“I’m going to the Demon King’s castle.”
“Is that so?”
The mage wore a very meaningful expression.
Did he not believe him? Even if so, it didn’t matter.
The world was on the hero Xion’s side.
When Xion tipped his chin slightly to signal “move,” the mage obediently stepped aside and opened a path.
Without looking back, Xion headed for the Demon King’s castle.
The shorter the interval between his visits, the more Reinhild would grumble, “Already?” but he never truly got angry or sent Xion away.
Thinking of how he’d welcomed him even when he hadn’t brought anything tasty, Xion was certain Reinhild welcomed his visits.
Xion wished these days would last forever.
That the days in which, under the name of hero, he monopolized the Demon King’s time would continue.
He prayed earnestly as he made for the Demon King’s castle.
But, as ever…
Nothing in this world proceeds only smoothly.
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