Chapter 11

Chapter 11
## Chapter 11: Destined for the First Floor

Beautiful things often possess hidden dangers.

Sweet nectar is guarded by stinging insects.

In this world, spiritual plants were far more valuable than any blossom or honey. They were rarer, more potent, and more divine.

It was only natural that many desired them.

It was only natural that many went in search of them.

And so, it was only natural that competition existed.

“Frost Orcs.”

Berge wasn’t the only hunter scouring the peaks for spiritual treasures.

Coated in thick, snow-white fur, these creatures were the dominant inhabitants of the frozen heights.

“What is the plan? Even veteran warriors struggle against their kind.”

“Especially with the Demon King himself standing right beside you,” the other added.

Berge stood up. He began a measured approach toward their encampment.

*Grrr—*

*Grrr?*

Guttural snarls cut through the howling wind. He could sense their gaze fixing upon him.

One, then two, then three. Pairs of golden eyes emerged from the white, flashing with suspicion and aggression.

“…A demon.”

The word was spat out by one of the orcs.

Berge had made no effort to mask his presence, and they had immediately identified his nature.

“By my authority as a Demon King, I order you to abandon this place and leave in peace.”

In the hierarchy of the world, monsters were essentially diluted versions of demon beasts. The creatures originally released from the demon realm across various planes had settled in the mortal world, evolving into permanent forms over time.

Though countless generations had passed since their connection to the demon realm was severed, a primal instinct still hummed in their blood.

A deep-seated instinct to obey demonkin. To serve the realm of their ancestors.

However.

“…No.”

“This belongs to us.”

“We do not follow the commands of demons.”

The Frost Orcs bared their jagged teeth. Their wariness sharpened into a lethal intent.

“These fools…”

Berge realized he had miscalculated two things. First, the link to the demon realm had withered to almost nothing in monsters that lived in such extreme isolation.

Second, for creatures ruled by primal drives, the spiritual plant right in front of them was a treasure of such magnitude that they would never surrender it.

It was worth defying an unknown demon for.

But the Frost Orcs had made a fatal error of their own—they failed to realize that Berge was not just any demon, but a Demon King.

And he was a man who thrived in the heart of conflict.

*Whoosh—*

Waves of obsidian fire surged forth. The freezing gale could not even touch the space he occupied.

“S-Slay him…!”

“Defend our prize!”

Driven by greed and fury, the orcs gripped their rusted blades and charged, their eyes turning a violent crimson.

The black inferno yawned open like the throat of a titan. The two forces slammed into one another.

*Boom—!*

The foremost orc was instantly incinerated.

That set the pace. The air was suddenly thick with the sound of detonations, dying wails, and bestial bellows.

“…Oh.”

Ernyan watched the carnage with wide, vacant eyes.

The heat was staggering.

It was so intense that the blizzard of the frozen peaks felt like a lukewarm breeze in comparison.

The black flames danced with a predatory intelligence.

They turned snow to steam, scorched the very bedrock, and consumed the orcs whole.

The monsters shrieked in agony.

They threw themselves into the snowbanks, but the obsidian fire refused to be extinguished.

Their tusks never came close to the Demon King. Their crude iron weapons melted into useless slag before they could pierce the dark radiance.

It wasn’t a fight. It was a systematic purge.

*‘Even five Frost Orcs can take down an ogre. In these mountains, no warrior—no matter how skilled—should face them. If you see them, run and don’t look back.’*

*‘Why would I ever climb a mountain filled with Frost Orcs?’*

*‘You probably won’t. Just a bit of advice, haha.’*

Old memories flickered through her mind.

She had ended up in exactly that place. She was safe for now, but the reality of the situation was terrifying.

*‘This… is what a Demon King truly is.’*

The spirits surrounding her shivered in fear. They huddled behind her, trying to hide from the aura of a supreme predator.

Yet, she found herself unable to look away. There was a terrible beauty in that strength. That absolute, crushing power.

*‘If I possessed that kind of power…’*

Perhaps her life wouldn’t have felt like a sentence in a gilded cage.

Suddenly, the world went dark as the unnatural black light flickered out.

*Huff—*

The Demon King exhaled, his voice laced with the adrenaline of battle.

He held the orc chieftain by the throat, the massive body dangling like a broken doll.

Was he dead? Not quite.

A ragged, shallow breath still remained. But that was all.

The chieftain was utterly broken. His limbs were mangled and bleeding, and the pristine white fur that was his pride had been scorched into black ash.

His kin were gone, buried under the fresh snow of the tundra.

“Try saying it again.”

“…W-We… surrender.”

“I…”

The Demon King spoke each syllable as if grinding them between his teeth.

“…absolutely loathe being dismissed. I have no patience for those who mock me.”

That mere orcs—not even legendary heroes—would dare to cross him.

The very vanguard of the demon realm itself.

“How do you imagine I feel when mindless animals like you try to snap at my heels?”

“P-Pity…”

“Do you think a dog that bites its owner earns pity?”

“W-We shall serve you, Demon King-sama.”

The inhabitants of a Demon King’s tower generally fell into three groups.

The demonkin.

The demon beasts.

And the monsters.

Demonkin were the sentient races of the demon world.

Demon beasts were the various creatures of that same realm.

Monsters were the offshoots of demon beasts that had adapted to the mortal world long ago.

There were two paths to making these monsters serve the tower.

One could use magi points and the tower’s intrinsic power to burn a slave mark into their souls.

Or, one could beat them into such absolute submission that they served out of pure terror.

But Berge had zero interest in recruiting them.

Even without a formal mark, any creature residing in the tower would eventually siphon off some of its magi.

He wasn’t about to waste his limited resources on trash.

Besides, a dog that had shown its teeth once could never be trusted again.

“That is not your choice to make.”

*Crunch—*

He snuffed out the monster’s life.

—

“Incredible… the concentration of mana here is staggering.”

In the center of the now-ruined orc camp, several plants grew, radiating a powerful magical scent.

Ernyan swallowed hard, her eyes wide.

“Keep your hands off.”

Berge gave a short snort and nudged her aside.

He meticulously dug up three glowing roots and stowed them away.

These milk-white blossoms, called hyacinths, were rare herbs of the cold element that only appeared in the highest frozen reaches.

They possessed an intense chilling property, making them priceless components for water elementalists or ice mages.

For a scouting trip that had lasted barely half an hour, it was a massive success.

*‘I didn’t expect to find a high-density mana pocket so close.’*

Berge glanced at the princess, who had shifted from terror to a state of near-excitement, her spirits fluttering around her.

Even without taking the herbs, the environment itself was a paradise for someone of her path.

*‘If I had been more careful with the placement…’*

The tower functioned by absorbing ambient mana and refining it into magi.

Had he built it on this spot, his energy reserves would be much healthier. But regret was a waste of time.

*‘I might need to reconsider my plan to replace the princess.’*

He had toyed with the idea of watching the heroes’ progress and, if necessary, discarding the first princess to reclaim the thirteenth.

But the utility she was showing made him pause.

The Erjest Mountains were a goldmine of spiritual resources.

And he had a princess who could command the most effective scouts in existence: spirits.

*‘For the moment…’*

He would keep her close and milk her usefulness for all it was worth.

Until he could weaken the world’s interference and return to his peak.

Until the day he could claim the lives of the heroes who had humiliated him.

*‘Humans require a proper incentive to truly work themselves to the bone.’*

“Move to the next location. If we find more, I might let you keep one.”

“Understood! I will search every inch of this place!”

However, the luck didn’t hold. Despite her frantic efforts, they found nothing else before she eventually slumped over from pure fatigue.

—

“The hero procession has officially begun?”

“It has. The message came via the elf.”

When Berge returned to his fortress, the first thing he received was news of the heroes’ mobilization.

The hero procession. A phrase that had haunted him throughout his previous life.

“…It’s starting.”

“The report says thirty-two heroes have formed a coalition.”

“Who is the commander?”

“A man by the name of Hillun Kagil. He’s the one people say killed the Lust Demon King.”

“Hillun Kagil…”

The name rang a bell. He wasn’t a fraud—he was a legitimate threat who had actually taken the head of a Demon King.

He was facing a heavy hitter right from the start.

*‘Is this the cost of raising the tower in the Erjest Mountains?’*

The strategy meant to deter casual heroes seemed to have baited a far more dangerous predator instead.

“Should we attempt to sabotage the procession early on?”

“By what means?”

“Isn’t that why you hired Granada?”

“He’s reserved for a greater purpose. I won’t waste him on a whim.”

“Then we should spend magi points to buy demon beasts and harass them.”

Berge didn’t even consider it.

Heroes chosen by the world’s destiny grew stronger by slaying invaders. Essentially, fighting demon beasts, demonkin, or Demon Kings was how they gained power.

That was the standard cycle.

Sending weak forces to slow them down only resulted in the heroes being “fattened up” before they reached the tower.

It was an infuriating paradox.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then our hands are tied. If they strike now, we cannot hold them. Perhaps we should stop selling magi points and use them to dampen the world’s interference instead?”

“That buys us months, maybe. You think that’s enough to stop a man who decapitates Demon Kings?”

It wasn’t. If it were that simple, he wouldn’t have failed the first time. In his past, he had kidnapped royalty, sown chaos, and embraced his villainy, yet still fell.

“So you intend to just wait for them to arrive?”

“No. I’m going to turn the situation to my advantage.”

“How?”

“The hero procession. It’s a grand stage that humans absolutely adore.”

Berge understood the weight of the procession. The influence it carried. The prestige it granted the participants.

He had been the victim of that prestige many times.

“It is the perfect opportunity for a talented mercenary group without a name to build a reputation.”

“You’re sending Granada?”

“I’d rather have humans deal with humans.”

Regardless of how much they loved gold, no mercenary was foolish enough to try and kill a famous hero in front of the entire continent.

“What about the other heroes? They are still advancing.”

“We do nothing.”

Sending beasts only made them stronger. Since he had no human proxies to send yet, he would send nothing at all.

That choice would stall their growth. A hero procession was basically an invitation for Demon Kings to send experience points in the form of demonkin. By cutting off that supply, he was already ahead of the curve.

“For those arrogant heroes.”

“Sir?”

“When the princess mentioned decorating the fourth floor, it made me realize something. I’ve been thinking too traditionally. Maybe I’m just as narrow-minded as any other demonkin.”

He began to question his methods.

Was it strictly necessary to use magi points to fortify the walls?

Was it required to spend them on maintaining traps?

“What if we populated the tower with something other than demon beasts?”

“What are you saying?”

Gordon looked horrified.

“Please tell me you aren’t thinking of buying more slaves to fill the floors. I won’t allow it! No way!”

“Why not?”

“This is a fortress! You are a Demon King! You’re going to trust your sanctum to mere humans!?”

“Not humans. Dwarves.”

“That’s even worse! Do you have any idea how greedy those short-stacks are?”

“They are quite small.”

“Imagine it! Heroes arrive at your legendary tower only to be met by dwarves who barely reach their waists! Think of what the heroes would say!”

“They’d probably laugh.”

The image of the massive tower doors opening to reveal a bunch of 130 cm tall dwarves was, objectively, quite funny.

“Exactly! We need terrifying demon beasts in every corridor, not a bunch of runts!”

What a demonkin desired was to inspire fear, horror, anger, and hopelessness.

Would a human feel hopelessness when looking at a dwarf? Fear? No. They would mock the sight.

It was an insult to the office of Demon King.

“The throne at the peak isn’t just a chair. And those dwarves would never truly follow a Demon King’s orders!”

“I’ve heard they have a great love for coin.”

“They aren’t like humans who will sell their own mothers for a copper. They’re trickier. More annoying.”

“They are known for their stubbornness.”

“And more importantly…”

“More importantly?”

“They are weak. They’re fine as food for real beasts, but as guardians? I strongly object. The tower must be filled with the most powerful demon beasts to crush the heroes!”

“You’re right. A tower should be packed with the strongest forces available.”

“Finally. Now you’re talking like a true Demon King.”

Gordon nodded with relief, proud of himself for steering his master back to the right path.

“Then it’s settled. We fill the first floor with dwarves.”

“Gah!”

Gordon nearly bit through his tongue.

He hadn’t listened to a single word!