At the very time Xion set out for the Demon King’s castle to meet Reinhild, the Duke of West was enjoying himself too, though for reasons different from Xion’s.
‘For the Demon King to appear in my generation… Truly, my luck is excellent.’
Smiling in satisfaction, the Duke poured wine into a glass. Then he lifted the glass toward empty air, as if to toast someone.
There was no one here, but he felt like raising a solitary toast and receiving congratulations for all this glory.
Of course, “no one” was by the Duke of West’s standard. He did not count the knights and servants attending him as people.
The Demon King appears only every few centuries and irregularly at that.
The Duke of West, too, had spent his childhood preparing to become a hero.
The Demon King might appear. If that happens, you will be the hero. As the hero, you must elevate the family’s prestige. You must defeat the Demon King.
Even at the cost of your life.
Words he’d heard dozens, hundreds of times a day.
But the Duke had no desire to be the hero.
To become a hero who endures every hardship and yet receives no proper reward? If he were gravely injured and left crippled, or if he were poisoned by demonic energy and forced to live the rest of his life in pain, what use were honor and glory?
As the heir born to the ducal house of West, he could easily obtain honor and glory without dirty work like that.
They say if you defeat the Demon King, the god will grant you one wish. That didn’t tempt him either.
Everything the Duke of West wanted was already here in the ducal castle.
He wished for the house to prosper without his effort or toil.
So he exploited the loophole that one cannot become a hero after marrying and held his wedding the moment he came of age.
The previous Duke of West, his father, had fumed that no one knew when the Demon King might appear but he retorted that they could just produce the next candidate for hero.
The Duke’s choice was excellent. Had he put off the wedding even a year, he might have become the hero.
The thought alone was horrific.
But by timing things well, the Duke achieved everything he aimed for.
The Demon King appeared at a time when the Duke ruled the house yet could not become the hero. His firstborn was devoting all his strength to facing the Demon King as the hero. When Rexion won the feat of defeating the Demon King, it would be the Duke himself who rode that to elevate the family’s prestige.
When the West house held the greatest power, the one standing at its very top would be none other than this Duke of West.
He swirled the wine in his glass.
“Have we heard from Rexion? I sent an invitation, telling him to accompany me to the Emperor’s birthday celebration.”
“Lord Rexion has declined to attend His Imperial Majesty’s birthday celebration.”
“What!”
The Duke slammed down his wineglass in indignation.
“How dare he neglect a son’s duty and defy his father’s command!”
Expecting just such a reaction, the ducal steward kept his mouth shut and bowed his head.
He swallowed the comment that Rexion had probably not even opened the invitation.
“What on earth is he doing that he won’t attend such an important event.”
“He set out for the Demon King’s castle.”
At that, the Duke had nothing to say. In fact, it gave him a line of excuse. It was not a bad thing.
A hero who strives to protect the peace of the world, battling even on the Emperor’s birthday… Embroidering the tale for the rumor mill would sound quite respectable.
‘In any case, even the imperial family can’t make too much of a fuss that the hero didn’t appear.’
Drag him there by force, and if he said before all those people, “I was trying to go fight the Demon King, but the Duke stopped me,” it would only be worse. Better to let it be.
“Tsk. I should have seen to his education more thoroughly when he was little.”
The Duke clicked his tongue.
The long-awaited birth of the hero had made him too lax with the boy. That was the root of it.
In the end, the Duke attended the Emperor’s birthday celebration with his second son instead of Xion. The nobles, rarely seeing the ducal house at social functions, showed great interest.
A few nobles, eager to see the hero Xion up close, were heard whispering, but the Duke shut off his attention with all his might.
Nothings, the lot of them. It didn’t matter what they said.
“It seems the hero is busy today as well, contending with the Demon King.”
A quick-witted noble approached, speaking loudly enough for the entire hall to hear.
Relieved of the need to offer a mealy-mouthed excuse, the Duke smiled in satisfaction.
“The Demon King never rests. All the more reason for Rexion to exert himself.”
“Truly admirable, an exemplar of heroism itself. You must be very proud, hahahaha.”
“Ahahaha.”
They exchanged lines of a conversation that would have sounded less awkward even if scripted.
Several nobles who wanted ties with the ducal house, which had gained more influence than the imperial family with the hero’s advent, sidled up and joined the stilted chatter.
Though the house of West was said to have been born under the god’s blessing, whenever many gather there will always be at least one who carries a blade in his words.
From the crowd someone tossed out, seemingly in pure curiosity:
“But if he goes to the Demon King’s castle every time and returns with no result, doesn’t that mean he’s losing every battle?”
“What!”
The Duke’s reflexive roar chilled the room.
He swiftly mastered his temper, cleared his throat as if calm, and forced a smile.
“He’s not been the hero many years yet. He’s lacking in much. It can’t be helped.”
Fortunately the other had the sense to let it go, nodding with a smile.
Had he gone further—“They say the hero is born with power equal to the Demon King’s; if he’s still lacking after all this time, perhaps something is wrong with this hero…”—this would have become a battlefield, not a ballroom.
The nobles who had been watching with bated breath let out sighs of relief.
Feigning nonchalance, the Duke nonetheless left the party before the Emperor even appeared.
It was rude beyond what could be laughed off, but no one called him on it.
Not even the Emperor.
“Rexion West! How dare you subject me to such humiliation!”
Back at the castle, the Duke poured out his rage by cursing the hapless hero.
In truth, he knew. Public opinion, so favorable until recently, was twisting little by little.
As the number of visits to the Demon King’s castle increased but there was no news that the Demon King had been defeated, people could not help but question the hero’s qualifications.
Voices quickly spread worrying that perhaps this hero simply lacked the ability to defeat the Demon King.
Even when he excused it by saying you cannot vanquish the Demon King overnight, once perception has shifted, it does not easily shift back.
If he cannot stop the Demon King immediately, shouldn’t he at least be stopping the demonfolk? Yet the damage caused by demonfolk only grew with time.
People who had praised the hero Xion for dashing at the Demon King without sparing himself sank back into unease.
If the hero truly could not defeat the Demon King, what remained for the world was only ruin.
Like a plague, gloomy thoughts spread among the populace.
Then someone’s words drove in a wedge:
“It was more peaceful before the hero appeared.”
Hearing that, people thought back to that period when, hearts in their throats, they’d lived under the dread that the Demon King might at any time lead demonfolk and invade the world.
A terrible time they hated to recall, yet thinking on it now, the Demon King had not launched even a single attack.
So when was it that demonfolk began appearing in earnest and monsters infused with demonic energy began to rampage?
There was no need to ask.
It was from the moment the hero appeared.
If only there were no hero, the world would be peaceful.
Once spoken, the words spread among the people like wildfire.
Those who had relied solely on the ducal house of West and Xion and cried out for peace turned away in an instant, faces gone cold.
The Duke found this deeply offensive.
‘It’s still all right. It can be reversed.’
It was not too late. There was an opening.
Before these words could spread as if they were truth, the situation must be suppressed.
Yes… if the hero Xion distinguished himself.
Even if he could not defeat the Demon King at once, if he brought back, say, an arm as a trophy and put it on display for all to see, everything could be set right.
Regardless of Xion’s will, the Duke began planning to topple the Demon King under the hero’s name.
And there was someone who agreed with this more than anyone.
Someone who was more displeased than the Duke at the besmirching of the hero’s name.
It was none other than the high god who had granted the world its hero.
The hero exists to defeat the Demon King. That was a rule of this world the high god himself had set.
He was not created to trail after the Demon King and practice cooking.
In the end, the god decided to hand down punishment to the hero Rexion West.
It was the most fitting punishment for a hero who had lost his piety and was sliding into corruption.
That day, an oracle descended.
[On the day the hero’s power is taken, the Demon King shall be slain by another’s hand.]
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