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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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To put it bluntly, the aftermath of the clash between the two Hexa Spells turned the southern part of the fortress into a flattened wasteland.
The Baron, charging valiantly atop his tsunami, was torn to shreds, his body lost amidst the raging storm.
It was an anticlimactic end for one of the two pillars of the kingdom’s magic community.
I regrouped with Dorothea, who had taken shelter from the magical fallout, and we headed towards the residence at the center of the fortress, where Eva informed us that the Margrave of Hamburg had escaped through another secret passage within the residence.
“Should we send a pursuit party?”
“No. Taking the Hamburg fortress is enough for now. We’re all exhausted.”
Dorothea dismissed Eva with a wave of her hand and, glancing at me, sighed deeply.
“This is unbelievable. Just six months ago, we were trying to kill each other, and now we’re on the same side.”
I shrugged nonchalantly.
“If you have a problem with that, take it up with the Demon Lord. He’s the one who recruited me.”
“Shut up! I was just about to do that!”
Dorothea glared at me, then crossed her arms.
“First, tell me how you ended up joining the Demon Lord’s army.”
“That’s not a problem.”
I sat down on the sofa next to her and spent about an hour recounting the events that led to my defection, summarizing the details.
There was no point in hiding it, and if it helped soften her hostile attitude, even a little, it was worth it.
As enemies, we had been too busy fighting to learn about each other’s circumstances. After hearing my story, Dorothea’s face contorted in disbelief.
“That Hero is a complete idiot, isn’t he?”
She had said exactly what I was thinking.
I nodded in satisfaction.
“I think so, too.”
“How could he be so blinded by lust that he mistreated the most important member of his party, his mage?”
As one of the Four Heavenly Kings, constantly struggling with a shortage of skilled mages, Dorothea couldn’t comprehend the Hero’s stupidity.
“If you had been my subordinate, we would have conquered the kingdom by now.”
“Hmm? You think that highly of me?”
This was unexpected. I thought she hated me.
Dorothea nodded reluctantly.
“Well, you’re skilled. Shame about your personality, though.”
As expected.
She had suffered from my destructive magic too many times to forget, and she still hadn’t let it go.
With an easy smile, I extended my hand toward her.
“Anyway, now that I’m part of the Demon Lord’s army, there’s no point in fighting amongst ourselves. It would only displease the Demon Lord. So, let’s make peace.”
Dorothea looked at me as if I had grown a second head.
“Me? Make peace with you?”
“Why? Don’t you want to?”
“Of course not!”
She slumped back against the sofa.
“I’ll repay the life debt I owe you in another way. But don’t expect us to become friends. You wouldn’t like that either, would you?”
She stared at me with her piercing red eyes, as if trying to see through my mask. It was unsettling.
To be honest, I didn’t particularly want to become friends with her either.
My contract was with the Demon Lord. As long as I pleased him, I didn’t need to expand my social circle within the Demon Lord’s army. It would only be a hassle.
But being so blatantly rejected only fueled my determination.
I thought for a moment, then recalled something Eva had said yesterday.
“Dorothea, you like to drink, don’t you?”
“…How did you know?”
“Eva told me yesterday. I asked her what would be the best gift to win your favor.”
“That bitch.”
Ignoring her muttered curse, I crossed my arms and asked,
“How about a drinking contest? If you win, we pretend we never met. If I win, we try to be friends.”
Dorothea narrowed her eyes.
“Why would I agree to such a ridiculous wager?”
She still wasn’t budging.
But I knew how to handle this.
I grinned.
“Are you chicken?”
People with strong egos couldn’t stand being challenged.
As expected, Dorothea’s face reddened, and she flipped me off.
“Fuck you! Tell someone to bring all the alcohol from the storage room!”
Hook, line, and sinker.
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Of course, Dorothea, knowing the importance of prioritizing work, didn’t start drinking immediately.
First, she assessed the remaining supplies within the fortress and distributed food. Then, as she had promised, we all gathered for dinner.
Everyone had skipped dinner, anticipating a feast after capturing the fortress.
Having been granted permission to plunder, the demon soldiers were adorned with various trinkets and baubles.
While the human women they had been hoping for were nowhere to be found, they seemed content with the spoils of war, especially the abundant food and alcohol.
Having been on strict rations due to limited supplies, the demon soldiers ate and drank merrily.
As their stomachs filled and their spirits lifted, they began drinking in earnest, seeking to forget the horrors of the day.
It was understandable.
Just hours ago, their comrades had been dying beside them.
The death of a friend was never easy to accept.
Even now, bodies were being burned in another part of the fortress.
While the human corpses were simply incinerated, the remains of the demon soldiers would be collected and sent back to their families.
I discreetly removed my mask and ate a quick meal away from the prying eyes of the soldiers, then headed to Dorothea’s tent, as we had agreed.
A table laden with alcohol, seemingly every expensive bottle from the fortress stores, awaited us.
As we entered and our eyes met, Dorothea grinned.
“You didn’t run away?”
“Why would I?”
I closed the door behind me, and she filled a glass with amber liquid.
“Do you really think a mere human can outdrink a witch?”
I shrugged and sat down.
“We’ll see about that.”
She shouldn’t underestimate the liver I had trained through years of drinking with my alcoholic master.
This was a battle of pride.
And I wasn’t about to lose to someone as small as Dorothea.
She handed me the filled glass.
A sweet aroma wafted from the glass. It seemed to be some kind of liqueur.
We locked eyes and downed our drinks in one gulp.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
Not a single drop was left in our glasses. Leaving even a drop would be an admission of defeat.
We immediately refilled our glasses.
There were some snacks on the table, but neither of us touched them.
We raised our glasses and clinked them together.
Glug, glug, glug.
A 600ml bottle was quickly emptied, and we opened another.
This time, it was tequila.
After the tequila, we moved on to wine.
As the empty bottles on the table piled up, it began to feel less like we were drinking the alcohol, and more like the alcohol was drinking us.
I felt a pleasant dizziness creeping in.
The familiar buzz of intoxication.
Even the strongest liver was no match for endless mixed drinks.
Dorothea didn’t look much better.
Our faces were flushed, and we were laughing and chatting.
What had started as a battle of pride had become something else entirely.
The tension between us dissipated, and the animosity faded.
We gazed into each other’s eyes, our vision blurry, and raised our glasses for another toast.
And when I regained consciousness—
We were both lying on the bed, facing each other.
Huh?
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