Chapter 24

Chapter 24
## Chapter 24: The Fate of Hillun Kagil

The return of Watton. A mission only half-completed.

Once that report began to circulate, a single question dominated the minds of everyone in the realm.

What had become of Hillun Kagil?

“He persists in his trek through the Erjest Mountains, searching for the tower where the Demon King resides.”

This was the official account provided by Watton. However, as days bled into weeks without any sign of the champion, a thick shroud of anxiety began to cover the populace.

“He is surely lost. The expedition has ended in tragedy.”

“Don’t be absurd. He is the man who ended the Lust Demon King. A fledgling ruler who just arrived wouldn’t be enough to take him down.”

“Perhaps not a ‘Demon King’ in a fair fight. But look at the geography. Are the Erjest Mountains just any trek in the woods? They are a death trap of lethal predators and unending snowstorms. He has been wandering that frozen wasteland for a month. Can any mortal, hero or not, endure that?”

Furthermore, even if he managed to locate his target in such a diminished state, it presented a new terror.

“Would he even have the strength left to strike the finishing blow?”

Regardless of the enemy’s power, the new ruler had only just taken his throne.

No one could offer a confident prediction.

The Erjest Mountains were legendary for their cruelty, and the entity inhabiting them was an enigma.

Hillun was a legend, but he was still made of flesh and bone. History was littered with the corpses of heroes who had marched toward a Demon King’s Tower only to never be heard from again.

“He has perished.”

“Hillun Kagil has met his end!”

“His silence is the only proof we need!”

Dark rumors spread like a plague through the streets.

As the tall tales grew in the minds of the people, a certain individual’s resources grew in kind.

—

[125,412pt]

“Excellent.”

Berge wore a satisfied smirk as he monitored the rapid accumulation of his magic points.

The humans remained ignorant, but the momentum of their hero had been thoroughly crushed. A sense of serenity had settled over the tower.

In the wake of a defensive victory, the cleanup phase is paramount—though Berge found himself with little to actually oversee.

Organizing the internal layout was Gordon’s responsibility, while the management of the captives was left to Granada.

The restoration of the damaged arcane artillery and ballistae was handled by Roger, and the governance of the fourth level was the princess’s burden.

For the moment, his only task was to wait for the prisoners’ resolve to crumble. As the sovereign of this domain, he found the anticipation quite pleasant.

Leading up to the hero’s arrival, every hour had been fraught with tension; since his return to the past, he hadn’t enjoyed a single second of true rest. This period of calm was a luxury.

The mounting points were merely a bonus.

“A formal request for your presence has arrived.”

The messenger who would signal the conclusion of his downtime appeared before him.

“An invitation?”

“A dispatch from the Beast Demon King. It reads: ‘Seven days from now, at the stroke of noon. A feast shall be held at the Tower of Falsehood to mark the arrival of the new sovereign and celebrate recent triumphs. Your presence is required. Absence shall be viewed as a slight.'”

“Absence will not be tolerated? I wonder if he felt a spark of irony while writing that.”

A social gathering.

The rulers of Aren were well aware that their status was not guaranteed, unlike those in different realms. They understood they were as likely to be hunted as they were to hunt.

Thus, to ensure their continued existence, they attempted to forge alliances amongst their own kind.

That was the purpose of the feast, known as the Harmony of the Towers. It was a summit where the five reigning Demon Kings could interact.

It was an annual tradition that rotated between their seats of power, with special sessions called whenever a new ruler descended.

In his previous life, this invitation had arrived shortly after Berge took his throne. Back then, he had simply discarded it.

‘At that time, I believed that seeking strength in numbers was a weakness beneath a Demon King.’

Regardless, receiving such a summons only a few months into his reign was atypical.

‘The ripples of change, I suppose.’

By disregarding the Standard of the Demon King and gaining a reputation as a reckless upstart, he had changed the narrative.

Drakson had perceived him as an adversary from the start, actively spreading vitriol about him. He had been counting on Berge’s demise.

“Yet the man he expected to fall has triumphed instead—now his curiosity is piqued enough to want to see me in person.”

“How shall we respond, sire?”

“He went through the trouble of sending a courier; it would be rude not to show our faces.”

Berge was currently carving a path entirely different from his first life.

His connections and the timeline had shifted, and if he wanted to avoid the same tragic finale, his own behavior had to evolve.

‘I must also get a clear picture of the dynamic between the other rulers and the human race.’

In the past, Berge had no meaningful contact with humanity. He was the ravager; they were simply prizes to be seized through bloodshed.

He had been a general without an army.

He had ignored the other Demon Kings.

He had laughed at human diplomats.

He had looked down upon every hero.

The result?

Not a single Demon King came to his aid.

By choosing total war over any form of parley, he forced the humans into a unified front.

The heroes had played with him like a toy.

In those days, he thought his path was the only one. The correct one.

But a single crushing defeat proved that his “correct” path was a fallacy.

‘This time, the story will not end that way.’

It couldn’t. Not under any circumstances.

He had utilized the dwarf and the princess to modernize the tower’s internal systems.

Now, it was time to revolutionize his external politics.

—

The Harmony of the Towers.

This was the title the rulers of Aren gave to their summits.

The tradition had been established exactly 351 years ago.

At that time, Demon Kings were being picked off by waves of adventurers, and new arrivals weren’t surviving long enough to establish themselves.

Driven by desperation, one of them suggested they adopt the human tactic of cooperation—and the Harmony of the Towers was born from that first desperate meeting.

“To wear the crown of a Demon King while using a sentimental word like ‘harmony’…”

It was a testament to how backed into a corner the rulers of Aren truly were.

“Are we prepared to leave?”

“Indeed.”

The invitations were strictly for the rulers and their primary retainers. Consequently, only Gordon was permitted to go with Berge.

⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
[Initiating a portal to the Tower of Falsehood.] [Awaiting recipient’s authorization.] [Authorization granted.] [100pt deducted.]

The gateways between the towers were controlled by the respective rulers. No door would open without mutual agreement or a significant expenditure of points—but no sovereign ever declined the Harmony summit.

At least, not in this timeline.

A violent static filled the air—

Within the throne room of the fifth level, near the gilded seat of power, the very fabric of reality tore open.

“Let us proceed.”

“Understood.”

Berge crossed the threshold into the void.

—

“Greetings.”

“We offer our salutations to the exalted Demon King, Berge Dayas!”

The portals between towers always deposited the traveler on the ground floor of the host’s domain.

Thus, Berge stepped out into the lobby of the tower. The massive doors groaned as they swung wide.

He walked upon a lush scarlet carpet.

Glimmering chandeliers illuminated the grand hall.

Statues of solid gold, exquisite paintings, and meticulous artistry were everywhere.

And standing among the finery…

Dark elves stood in rigid formation with their blades drawn in salute.

Succubus attendants and incubus staff bowed deeply behind the line of soldiers.

“I say…”

Gordon hesitated at the sight, which seemed far too refined for a Demon King’s fortress, but Berge followed the path of the carpet without a word.

“It is an honor to meet you, Berge Dayas. I am Aina Selmun, the chief subordinate to Lord Jason.”

At the far end of the hall, a succubus with vibrant crimson hair offered a graceful curtsy. Her movements were the height of poise.

“A reception organized specifically for your arrival, Lord Demon King. I trust the atmosphere is to your liking.”

“It is adequate.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

“That gold sculpture is particularly striking. And the jewelry work is high-grade. Is it dwarven?”

“…You are certainly a unique individual among your peers, my lord.”

“Has my reputation preceded me?”

“Rumors are common, but they are often exaggerated, are they not?”

“In this case, they are accurate. Every word is the truth.”

A tiny tremor of irritation passed over Aina’s composed features.

“…I see. The False Demon King is waiting on the upper levels. Please allow me to escort you.”

“And the others?”

“They have all checked in.”

“I was under the impression I was on time.”

“You are. The others simply chose to arrive ahead of schedule.”

“I imagine they had plenty to whisper about in my absence.”

“As a subordinate, I wouldn’t be privy to such things.”

“One does not typically refer to an aide of your caliber as ‘mere’.”

“……”

The sound of footsteps—

A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the rhythmic clicking of Aina’s heels.

The thirteenth floor. The Tower of Falsehood was a massive structure thirteen stories tall.

Aina came to a halt before the towering doors of the grand hall.

“The masters are within. This chamber is reserved for the sovereigns, so I shall escort your retainer to a separate waiting area.”

Berge gave a casual nod. Aina knocked softly. A dark elf sentry announced their arrival.

“Demon King Berge Dayas has arrived.”

“Grant him entry.”

The heavy doors parted at the command.

“I wish you a productive session.”

Aina bowed and led Gordon away, disappearing into the corridor.

The interior of the hall was a display of obscene wealth.

If the lobby was considered refined, this room was a monument to excess.

The golden throne had been moved to the side. In its place stood a circular table carved from a single, massive, translucent diamond.

Seated around this table were four figures.

The eyes of four Demon Kings turned toward Berge Dayas.

“It has been quite some time.”

A look of thinly veiled annoyance: the Beast Demon King.

“So, you are Berge Dayas?”

A freezing gaze filled with clinical interest: the Frozen Demon King.

“The celebrated moron has finally arrived.”

A five-meter wall of muscle speaking with casual disrespect: the Adamant Demon King.

“You are welcome here.”

A refined bow: the False Demon King.

Berge took the seat that had been set for him. Four sets of eyes remained locked on his stoic face.

“It is good to see you.”

The False Demon King adjusted his eyewear, a pleasant smile fixed on his face.

“Good to see me?”

Berge turned his head slowly. Ugar Belbek. The giant’s massive eyes glared at him.

“Everyone at this table holds seniority over you, brat. Show some deference, you lucky amateur.”

“Amateur.”

Berge tapped his fingers rhythmically on the diamond surface.

“I was the top of my class. And you?”

“You little worm…!”

“Is this the standard of hospitality here?”

Berge ignored Ugar and looked directly at the False Demon King.

“I came here because I was invited, yet you let a farm animal oink at me the moment I sit down? Perhaps I should take my leave.”

The air grew heavy with murderous intent.

“…Do you wish to die today?”

“Lord Ugar, remember where we are. This is a summit of harmony. Do not desecrate this gathering with such outbursts.”

“But—!”

“Lord Ugar.”

At the firm interjection from the False one, Ugar scowled and suppressed his aura.

“Lord Berge seems to possess the spirit of a true Demon King more than most.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Is there anything else on your mind? I would prefer we air all grievances now.”

Berge gave a silent shake of his head.

He wasn’t here to make friends, and this was his first experience at such an event. Unsure of the specific protocols, he decided to play the observer.

“Very well. Understandable.”

Jason nodded with exaggerated empathy.

“The atmosphere may feel strange at first, but this is a venue for the rulers to find common ground. To understand one another, form ties, and create a unified front against the humans.”

“Common ground? The thought is nauseating.”

Berge knew they had a point.

In this world, results were the only currency. Just before his regression, Berge had been destroyed, while Jason and the others had maintained their status.

They hadn’t necessarily conquered the world, but they hadn’t failed—and that was what mattered.

However, simply agreeing with them would be a mistake. To this group, he was the lunatic who ignored the Standard; a sudden shift to cooperation would look like a trap.

“A sentiment typical of a Demon King, to be sure.”

Even after the direct insult, Jason’s smile didn’t waver.

He was always this way. A facade of politeness and a mask of perpetual joy.

“However, Aren is far more complex than you realize, Lord Berge. Though it is wounding to our pride, even we must learn the art of the compromise.”

“A Demon King who compromises is a contradiction.”

“Perhaps. But is anything in this existence set in stone? Much like how you discarded the divine Standard for the sake of your subjects.”

“Are you mocking my choices?”

“Merely making an observation.”

Jason gave a light shrug. Berge didn’t press the issue.

The conversation shifted to trivialities.

“Since this is your first time, you may lack familiarity with your peers. As your host, I shall perform the introductions.”

The False Demon King began to give brief, almost dismissive descriptions of the other three.

“This is Ugar Belbek. Known to the humans as the Adamant Demon King—a true titan.”

“Hmph. A title wasted on a child like you.”

The giant snorted, and a foul odor seemed to ripple through the air; Berge winced at the smell.

“You have already met the Beast Demon King. Drakson Dolph. A wolf of the beastkin tribes.”

“Still as full of yourself as ever.”

The hostility from the wolf was palpable.

“And here we have Reina…”

Berge let the descriptions wash over him, his mind drifting elsewhere.

The Harmony of the Towers.

On the surface, it appeared to be a mundane social function—very much like a human party: food, drink, and small talk.

That was the facade.

But was that the whole truth?

‘The Harmony has existed for centuries. And since its inception, the rate of Demon Kings falling to heroes has dropped significantly.’

Could simple socializing achieve such a result? It seemed unlikely.

Then why had it lasted so long?

Why did every ruler, except for his past self, make it a point to attend?

“The introductions are complete. Now, it is your turn. Or rather, I find myself with a few questions.”

Here it comes.

“Berge Dayas.”

The moment Jason stopped speaking, Ugar’s voice growled across the table.

“Tell us. Where is Hillun Kagil?”