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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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The Hero, Artorius.
I first met him about a year ago.
A fool who, while visiting the capital city of Oz with a friend, happened to pull out a legendary sword and, swayed by the sweet words of the cunning old King Oscar, was thrust into the role of Demon Lord slayer.
I joined the Hero’s party on the orders of my master, the Head Mage of the tower, to support this fool.
My initial impression of him wasn’t bad.
As one of the only two men in the party, he often confided in me, and despite our six-year age gap, he treated me with respect, calling me “brother.”
The turning point in our relationship came when we encountered Mephisto, the Scarecrow of Death, one of the Four Heavenly Kings of the Demon Lord’s army.
The Hero, who had been coasting on his overwhelming cheat-like abilities, suffered a crushing defeat against Mephisto, experiencing the fear of death for the first time. He chose to retreat.
It was the Warrior, who had always shown clear signs of affection for him, who dragged him out of his room, forcing him to confront his fear.
Well, it was a common trope: a man on the verge of despair finding solace in the arms of a woman.
Thanks to the Warrior’s self-sacrifice, the Hero overcame his fear, and we resumed our journey to assassinate the Demon Lord.
Up to this point, it could have been a happy ending.
Two people with mutual affection finally getting together.
But what followed was the problem.
Once a monk tastes meat, there won’t be any flies left in the temple.
Having tasted the pleasures of the flesh, the Hero started sneaking off whenever he could to sleep with the Warrior. Not satisfied with that, he also seduced the Sage and the Priestess, who had also shown interest in him.
The Priestess hadn’t even realized she had been seduced until one day, the effectiveness of her healing spells decreased by 30%. Damn it.
My potion expenses increased as a result.
The bigger problem was that, with all the women in the party now belonging to the Hero, they started subtly ostracizing me, the other man.
While I didn’t mind them sleeping with each other, the Hero, with his lack of prior romantic experience, seemed to fear I would steal them away.
Gradually, his respectful tone and the “brother” address changed to casual, condescending language. He stopped thanking me for single-handedly clearing out the demons we encountered during our travels.
Well, he had become an ungrateful bastard, but what could I do?
It was the result of his accumulated karma.
And I never forgot a grudge.
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“I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll be waiting here.”
Vanessa, having kindly escorted us to the third level, walked towards a chair near the entrance.
She would wait there until I was finished.
I glanced at Camilla.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
She didn’t seem inclined to leave, unlike Vanessa.
Well, I wasn’t planning to discuss anything important, so it shouldn’t matter.
I called out to the Hero, who sat motionless in his cell, his head bowed.
“Hey.”
“…”
He didn’t respond.
Had he fainted from torture? Or was he simply asleep?
I couldn’t leave empty-handed after coming all this way.
I glanced at Vanessa, who was sitting near the entrance, and snapped my fingers.
Splash!
I channeled my mana, and a bucket of cold water poured over the Hero’s head.
“Cough! Cough!”
Startled by the sudden cold shower, the Hero lifted his head, coughing.
“…Kaldrash?”
His eyes, unfocused and hazy, couldn’t seem to fix on me.
While the others seemed relatively unharmed, the Hero was in rough shape. He must have been severely tortured.
Well, he had been caught trying to assassinate a head of state. He was lucky to be alive.
I waved at the battered Hero and greeted him casually.
“Hey there, Hero. Long time no see. Enjoying the Demon Lord’s hospitality?”
His response was cold.
“…Are you here to mock me?”
He was surprisingly calm. I had expected him to explode in anger at the sight of me.
I examined the shackles binding his limbs.
As the Demon Lord had said, they were specially crafted. The Hero’s mana was constantly dissipating, unable to coalesce.
Even a Sword Master, let alone the Hero, couldn’t escape those.
Since Camilla was watching, I put on a villainous smirk and took a step closer.
“Hero, do you know why you’re still alive?”
The Hero was silent for a moment, then his dry, parched lips parted.
“Because you have some use for me, I presume.”
I shook my head dramatically.
“No. I asked them to keep you alive. I wanted to see you suffer in prison with my own eyes.”
The Hero’s calm facade crumbled.
“…You have a sick hobby.”
I shrugged and said,
“From now on, I’m a mage of the Demon Lord’s army, his loyal hound. It’s much better than being treated like dirt in the Hero’s party.”
The Hero looked at me with a complex expression.
“What happened to you? The you I knew wouldn’t betray his companions for money.”
I had initially intended to simply taunt him, but his words struck a nerve.
Bang!
I slammed my forehead against the bars of his cell.
“Are you serious? Do you have any idea how I was treated while you and those bitches were screwing around? My betrayal was justified. You, of all people, have no right to judge me, after losing sight of your original purpose.”
Camilla gasped.
She had probably never seen me truly angry.
Ignoring the blood trickling down my forehead, I glared at the Hero through the bars.
At first, he met my gaze, but as time passed, he seemed to waver, his weakened body unable to maintain the confrontation.
I stepped back from the bars and ran a hand through my hair, my head still throbbing with anger.
I hadn’t expected anything grand.
But I had hoped he would show some anger, some resentment, something at seeing me, his betrayer, but there was none.
He was selfish to the core, believing the world revolved around him.
Knowing further conversation would only frustrate me, I took a few deep breaths and said,
“By the way, don’t even think about committing suicide. If you die, the rest of your party members, now useless to me, will be executed.”
For the first time, the Hero’s hazy eyes focused.
“Th-They’re still alive?! Where?! Where are they?!”
This was unexpected.
If they were imprisoned on the same level, they could have communicated through the walls. The Hero was completely unaware of their survival.
Confused, I glanced at Camilla, and she whispered,
“The walls of the cells on this level are enchanted with a special soundproofing spell. Prisoners can’t hear each other.”
I see. That explained it.
I said to the agitated Hero, a mocking tone in my voice,
“They’re still alive and well. I’m not completely heartless. Depending on how you behave, I might even release them.”
A blatant lie, of course.
I had no intention of releasing them, just like I had no intention of releasing the Hero.
If even one of them escaped, my betrayal would be exposed.
Imprisoning them would buy me time, but only for three, maybe four months at most.
If the Hero’s party disappeared for more than six months after entering demon territory, people would assume they were dead.
If word of this reached the old fox on the throne, he would immediately appoint a new Hero and send new scouts.
If my hypothesis about there being only one Hero at a time was correct, I would be safe. But if not, I would have dug my own grave.
I turned to leave, leaving the Hero agonizing over his companions’ fate.
“I’ll be back. Have your answer ready by then.”
Having seen the Hero’s insufferable face, it was time to attend to the real reason I had come to the dungeon.
As I walked back the way we came, Camilla offered me a handkerchief.
“For the blood on your forehead.”
I hesitated for a moment, then smiled wryly and said,
“Thank you.”
Camilla was a very thoughtful woman.
She would make a good wife someday.
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Shenanigans abound~