Chapter 26

Chapter 26
## Chapter 26: Acquisition Through Wealth

Each sovereign of the Demon Realm possesses a distinct environment that mirrors their essence.

The Beast Demon King established his seat of power amidst boundless steppes where wild creatures could sprint without end. The Diamond Demon King carved his sanctuary into rugged, boulder-strewn canyons, while the Frost Demon King claimed the desolate northern wastes where the wind never ceases its icy howl.

The Deceit Demon King, however, had positioned his spire atop the surface of a breathtaking lake.

On the water, birds glided and fish breached the surface in rhythmic splashes. The mornings were draped in soft, ethereal mists, and the afternoons saw the sun’s rays fracture into a thousand dancing lights upon the ripples. It was a masterpiece of aesthetic perfection.

This aquatic tower was the ideal manifestation of his fixation on elegance and superficial charm.

“What sort of confidences do you intend to share, inviting me out so publicly?”

He stepped onto the balcony, and there she stood.

Reina Sordain, the Frost Demon King, turned away from her contemplation of the shifting water. Even a slight proximity to her person brought a perceptible drop in temperature.

“There are no secrets. I simply felt the urge to speak with you personally after the whispers reached my ears.”

“With me?”

“The rumors claimed you had disparaged the Standard, so I anticipated someone far more abrasive. Yet, you seem remarkably mundane.”

“Not mundane—strikingly attractive.”

“…If that is your conviction, perhaps it is so.”

Her pale, silver-blue gaze locked onto Berge.

“I find myself in partial agreement with your stance.”

The declaration was a sudden, heavy blow.

Berge’s composed mask faltered for a second. Had Reina ever uttered such sentiments in his previous life? She had not. Their interactions back then had been fleeting and largely antagonistic.

Beyond their personal history, he had never imagined another high-ranking demon would dare voice skepticism regarding the Standard.

“Are you being sincere?”

“Is it so hard to believe? Am I forbidden from having thoughts of my own?”

“No, I am merely stunned to hear any Demon King other than myself speak ill of the Standard.”

“You misunderstand,” Reina corrected him with a calm precision. “I only agree in part. I do not harbor hatred for the Standard. In truth, I hold it in high esteem and believe its preservation is vital.”

“Just like the rest of our kind?”

“Precisely like them.”

“That sounds like a contradiction.”

“I admire the Standard. Its principles are impeccable. However, I am of the mind that certain aspects must be tailored to fit the environment and the current state of the world.”

The realization dawned on him.

Unlike Berge, who felt a fundamental loathing for the Standard itself, Reina was a pragmatist. She recognized the weight of reality and the necessity of evolution. Still, it was shocking that a Demon King, raised on the dogma of the Standard and the legends of the Founding Demon Emperor, could arrive at such a conclusion without a monumental catalyst.

“So, this wasn’t an invitation to bond over mutual heresy. Is this a warning? Am I being scolded like a wayward cub?”

“Tell me, Berge: do you know why no Demon King in Aren follows the Standard to the letter?”

Though the question seemed to come from nowhere, Berge provided the answer.

“There are far too many heroes.”

“Because for centuries, we have failed to achieve a simultaneous conquest. The people have grown used to us. We are no longer the absolute terror we once were. Now, heroes hunt us down. To follow the Standard blindly is to invite extinction.”

This was the survival strategy of Aren’s Demon Kings—bending the rules just enough to stay alive within the Standard’s framework.

“Yet, those hypocrites are sickened by their own actions. They recognize the necessity but refuse to confess it. Instead, they shout the loudest about being the most devout followers.”

Reina’s expression soured with disdain.

They viewed any deviation from the Standard as a mark of shame, masquerading as perfect adherents while insisting that Aren’t was stable and that they would simply grow stronger to fix any flaws.

“They fail to see that their pretense is the true disgrace. That is why I sought this meeting. I suspected you would be far more articulate and honest than those dullards.”

“And your final impression?”

“I dislike your hatred for the Standard, but I find you far easier to talk to than the others.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Be wary, though. You are far too provocative. That beast is not merely blustering like Ugard.”

“I am aware.”

He had already crossed paths with him once. The beast had essentially become a servant to Archduke Alcaine, passing along absurd demands and planting spies. Berge had issued a warning, but it had fallen on deaf ears. Hortonwalk was still teeming with his observers.

“Is that the extent of your message?”

“I simply hope you survive a while longer. It is rare to find someone worth talking to.”

“And what of the Deceit Demon King?”

“An enigma. I cannot decipher his motives or his schemes. Still, he is preferable to those other two idiots.”

She gave a small shrug, signaling the end of the encounter.

“If you ever require counsel, you may contact me. I will be receptive—provided you don’t insult the Standard while I’m listening.”

“Understood.”

He had no immediate requests, but forging a link with Reina Sordain was a strategic victory. Among the four Demon Kings, she was the only one he felt he could cautiously describe as “somewhat reliable.”

“A personal communication device. But is it true that Hillun Kagil is still wandering the peaks?”

“He is at least several weeks away.”

“Understood.”

Without another word, she faded away. Berge toyed with the cold orb in his hand, feeling its lingering frost. Shortly after, he stepped back into the meeting chamber.

“…Has everyone departed?”

Only one of the five seats remained occupied.

“The room has emptied,” Jason noted airily, stirring his tea. “The summit is concluded.”

“That was remarkably brief.”

“It wasn’t a formal gathering. It was primarily to acknowledge your arrival as the new Berge. Given your friction with the others, there was no reason to linger, was there?”

Berge took a seat across from him in silence.

“Would you like some tea?”

“I have no taste for human brews.”

“It is of elven origin.”

“A distinction without a difference.”

“It may not rival the selections from the Demon Realm, but the varieties found in Aren have a certain appeal.”

“You’ve already conceded the point by admitting it’s inferior.”

“You are a difficult guest to please.”

Jason set his spoon aside.

“Was your conversation with Lady Reina productive?”

“It was adequate.”

“I assume you won’t be sharing the details?”

“……”

“I’m merely teasing. I admit to a bit of envy; I’d like to find common ground with you as well, Berge.”

For the second time that day, Berge felt a genuine flicker of surprise.

“Why? I openly mocked the Standard.”

“True, but Aren is a unique realm that demands flexibility. Even the Demon Emperor gets criticized when he’s not around to hear it.”

“I did it to his face—and everyone else’s.”

“Which makes you the most principled Demon King among us.”

Jason’s expression remained unreadable, though a cryptic smile touched his lips.

“You are quite different from your predecessor.”

“Naturally.”

Jason’s eyes sparked with interest.

“It’s just us now, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to an unnecessary, conspiratorial whisper. “Perhaps we could make for an excellent partnership?”

The tone was unnervingly sweet.

—

“How did the meeting of the subordinates go?”

“Oh. It was… uninspired.”

Gordon couldn’t bring himself to be entirely honest. The gathering had been a cesspool of aides complaining about their masters, and he had been the loudest voice in the room.

“And how was your experience, my lord?”

“Productive enough.”

He had identified two definite adversaries and two potential, if uncertain, allies. Simply establishing their identities and opening lines of communication made the trip worth the effort.

And now, the real work began.

“We must move quickly. It is time to put those prisoners to use.”

The other Demon Kings were skeptical that Hillun was still roaming the Erjest Mountains. It stood to reason; a powerful hero conquering towers would never be ignored, and leaving a tower undefended was contrary to their instincts. They had only looked the other way out of a tentative professional courtesy.

But that patience was thin.

He needed to eliminate any lingering doubts before they uncovered the truth—that he was employing a hero within his own walls. That was a transgression far more severe than merely bending the Standard.

“How do you intend to employ them?”

“There is only one proven method for a Demon King to ‘trust’ and utilize humans.”

“Are you referring to Black Knights and Dark Mages?”

The traditional route. One would seize a fragile human soul overflowing with resentment, infuse it with power, and transform the person into a living extension of one’s will. Such creatures were incapable of betrayal, serving as rabid hounds to be unleashed upon their own kind.

It was a classic method of corruption, but in the context of Aren, it had become antiquated.

The sheer number of heroes changed the math. Many Demon Kings had fallen to their blades. Humans here no longer viewed the demonkin as invincible deities; few were willing to trade their souls for a chance at conquest.

“But these individuals are a special case.”

The captives had no alternatives. If they wished to remain among the living, they would have to submit to Berge’s will. It was their only path to survival.

“Is the investment worth it? Any use of demonic power risks immediate discovery.”

Dark Mages and Black Knights could usually bypass a hero’s intuition by hiding their dark energy deep within their human shells, but only if the concealment was flawless.

“That will be their burden to manage.”

Berge was not running a charitable organization.

“And what of the other heroes?”

“Dispose of them all, with the exception of Hillun Kagil.”

His hatred for heroes had only intensified across his two lives, burning with a white-hot fury. Yet, he suppressed his rage for the sake of Roger and Hillun’s potential. What better vengeance against the class of people who had once treated him like a toy than to use one of their own to bring down the entire continent?

He had no use for the worthless.

“The rest of the hero party never reached the tower. They will return to the world and resume their mundane lives.”

They might lose a bit of prestige, but Hillun Kagil would bounce back soon enough.

“That is the plan. However, heroes are fundamentally incompatible with the process of becoming Black Knights. Doesn’t that mean Hillun must also be eliminated?”

“I will utilize Armani’s Orb.”

Armani’s Orb was a relic of the Demon Realm, a high-cost item purchased with Demonic Energy Points, designed specifically for subjugation. Once ingested, it dissolves and weaves itself into the host’s neural pathways. It carries the master’s magical signature, compelling absolute obedience while allowing the master to share the host’s senses and thoughts.

“Do you truly believe Hillun will consume it willingly?”

Demonkin were masters of the mind and soul, but heroes were a different breed. They possessed dimensional energy and high mental fortitude. For the orb to function, the hero had to lower all internal defenses and swallow it of their own volition. If forced, the body’s natural rejection would destroy the artifact before it could take root.

Would any hero be that self-destructive?

“That is why we are going to have a conversation.”

Fortunately, through Hillun’s incessant rambling, Berge had discovered the perfect leverage.

—

Hillun’s lips were cracked, his throat felt like it had been scraped with glass.

He leaned forward to lick at the moisture dripping down the cell wall. It was grimy and tasted of stone, but it provided a momentary reprieve from the thirst. As he blinked, his vision finally adjusted to the oppressive gloom.

‘…Why am I still breathing?’

He knew of Demon Kings who took royalty captive to demand ransoms from kingdoms or other heroes. But heroes themselves? They were never spared. They were the natural enemies of the demonkin; if they failed to conquer or escape, they died.

Yet, Hillun was alive.

‘None of this makes sense.’

Why was a dwarf master-crafting mana artillery for a demon? Why was an elven operative serving as a spy? Why was a human princess acting as a loyal attendant? And why was he being kept in a cage instead of being executed?

If not for the constant, dull throb of pain in his limbs, Hillun would have assumed this was some fever dream.

‘What do they want?’

Caging him meant he had value. But what could a Demon King possibly gain from a hero that was worth more than the hero’s head on a pike? Hillun searched his mind, but found no answer.

Then, the heavy door groaned open. It wasn’t the elf who usually arrived at midday.

“…The Demon King.”

Berge stood in the shadows, observing Hillun’s wretched state. The hero’s skin was sallow, his hair matted, his vitality clearly drained. Yet, the spark in his eyes remained. Berge found that promising.

“You seem to be enduring.”

“…Are you here to gloat?”

“I am going to release you.”

“…What?”

“You, and every other person in these cells. You will leave this place. You never found the tower; though you did not succeed in your quest, you did not suffer a hero’s defeat.”

“Hold on, just wait a minute.” Hillun’s mind raced to keep up. “You’re letting me go? Just like that?”

“Is there another human here I should be speaking to?”

“Have you lost your mind? Did you ingest something toxic?”

“Regrettably, there is no substance in this world or mine capable of compromising my sanity.”

“Then you’ve simply broken.”

“Do you have no desire to live?”

Of course he wanted to live. Hillun Kagil was a man driven by basic, powerful instincts. He craved existence, reputation, and wealth. Being a hero was his career path, and he had been highly successful until this moment. If this demon hadn’t used a princess as a human shield…

A heavy silence filled the cell. Hillun’s thoughts spiraled toward a terrifying realization. He began to laugh. The sound was ragged and pained, but he couldn’t help himself.

“…You’re trying to recruit me? A Demon King is trying to seduce a hero? Is this a joke?”

“Countless humans have sworn themselves to our service. Why should a hero be any different?”

“Because there is a massive difference!”

The two races were diametrically opposed. This wasn’t a mere border dispute or a political rivalry; it was a war of total conquest or total annihilation. Heroes were the shield of humanity; Demon Kings were the sword of the Demon Realm.

“There is no difference in the end. When the world is reshaped, the dead do not get a vote. All that matters is this: do you wish to survive?”

“……”

The question cut through his bravado.

“Become my servant.”

“We have a saying… even crawling through filth is better than being in a grave.”

“Do you think such a platitude will move me?”

“I see the hunger in you, Hillun. Greed, a thirst for fame, a desperate need to survive. You cling to life more fiercely than anyone I’ve met. Am I wrong?”

Berge was sensitive to the currents of emotion. The rage Hillun displayed was merely a mask.

“You prioritize your own standing over any sense of duty. Your desires come first.”

Hillun’s true despair wasn’t the failure of his mission; it was the loss of his reputation, the loss of potential riches, and the looming shadow of death. He didn’t care about the ‘evil’ of the demonkin; he cared about his own fall.

‘He isn’t unique.’

The heroes of Aren were often motivated by personal gain. It was why common merchants lived in fear of them.

“Your reputation will remain intact because you never ‘lost’ to a Demon King. As for the rest… I am aware of your financial burdens.”

“…What?”

“I will settle every debt you’ve spent your time complaining about.”

But that was just the beginning.

“I will act as the benefactor for all your future endeavors. I will be your patron. The Great Demon King, Berge Dayas, will fund your life. All you must do is pledge your sword to me.”

He chuckled softly.

Hillun’s laughter returned, though this time it was fueled by pure absurdity. A Demon King acting as a hero’s sponsor? It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Yet, he was curious to see how deep this madness went.

“Is that so?” He decided to play along. “My debts amount to 10,000 gold pieces. If you add in my future expenses, let’s call it 100,000. Pay that, and I’ll be your dog.”

“100,000 gold?”

“Is that too much for you? You’re my patron, aren’t you? If you want a hero to betray everything for a Demon King, that’s the entry price. Are you worried I’m lying? Don’t be. A hero’s word is his bond.”

He looked at the Demon King, expecting a burst of anger or a realization of the impossibility of the request. 100,000 gold was a fortune beyond the reach of almost any local ruler.

Instead, Berge remained perfectly calm.

“Wait here. I will return with the funds shortly.”

He turned and exited the cell.

“…What?”

—

“Lord Drakson! A priority message from Lord Berge!”

Drakson was jolted awake from his rest atop a massive, slumbering beast.

“He wishes to trade Demonic Energy for human currency.”

“That is logical. He has been accumulating a vast amount of points.”

“He is requesting 100,000 gold.”

“…He wants what?” Drakson sat upright. “100,000? Does he even have enough energy to cover that?”

“His energy production is consistent; he proposes to pay in installments. He is even willing to sign a Demon Realm Contract to guarantee the debt.”

That changed everything. A contract bound by Demonic Energy was absolute; to break it was to forfeit one’s very rank and essence.

“What could he possibly need that much human gold for?”

“I shall inquire.”

“Later. How much do we have in the treasury?”

“Approximately 5,000 gold, my lord.”

“We are nowhere near the target.”

Demon Kings rarely cared for human money. Drakson’s meager stash came primarily from looting the parties that tried and failed to summit his tower. He took pride in those victories, but pride wouldn’t fill this order.

“……”

A massive windfall of Demonic Energy was sitting right in front of him, and he couldn’t grasp it.

“Tell him we will accept the installment plan and deliver the gold as we acquire it. I’ll start gathering what I can.”

100,000 gold was a staggering sum, but the energy it would buy was worth the effort. Drakson wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away.

“…I never imagined I’d be frustrated by a lack of human coins. Am I the one who’s crazy? No, Berge is the madman, trading pure energy for useless metal.”

—

“So you’re saying you’ll pay me as the money trickles in?”

『Yes… My master does not have that entire sum on hand at this moment…』

“The deal is off.”

『Please, wait! Lord Berge!』

“I’m listening.”

『No Demon King keeps that kind of human currency lying around! Give us a little time, and we will produce it!』

“I have no interest in your ‘time.'”

『Lord Drakson has numerous resources! He will find a way to satisfy the debt!』

“Then have him use those resources to get the gold, and contact me when he has it.”

Berge severed the connection. He waited for a moment, letting the silence settle. He knew he could just wait for Drakson, but after the summit, he had other options. They weren’t friends, but they were acquaintances now.

“I find myself in need of a gold loan.”

『……』

Berge was perfectly comfortable being blunt. There was a long pause on the other end.

『How fascinating.』

『Drakson contacted me with a similar request just moments ago.』

『Is there something happening that I should be aware of?』

“How amusing. He planned to borrow from you just to turn around and lend it to me?”

『It appears so. May I ask why you suddenly require such a sum?』

“I have a use for it.”

『If you wish to keep your secrets, so be it. But answer me this: how much, and what is the collateral?』

“100,000 gold. The payment is Demonic Energy.”

『…That is a surprising offer. You aren’t playing a prank, are you? I would find that quite disappointing.』

“Do we seem that close?”

『It is a lot of gold to provide upfront without a guarantee.』

『You should know, that sum represents the bulk of my personal savings.』

“You’ve been quite the collector. And here you were, the one asking for my friendship.”

『I’m starting to think that was a very wise move on my part.』

“To us, human money is essentially worthless, regardless of the amount.”

『In the Demon Realm, perhaps. Value is always a matter of perspective. But nothing is more valuable than Demonic Energy.』

There was no need for further debate. For a Demon King who lived among humans, there was no risk in the repayment. Jason Kokumondo reached the same conclusion Drakson had.

“It’s a deal.”

『My thoughts exactly. Just don’t ask for a refund later.』

—

*Clank—*

*Thud—*

*Thud—*

A series of heavy, bulging sacks were dropped unceremoniously in front of Hillun. The Demon King reached down and untied them, revealing an incredible mountain of gold coins that shimmered even in the dim light.

“Here. 100,000 gold,” the Demon King announced. “I have bought you. You belong to me now.”

He held out the orb.

Hillun Kagil swallowed it. He did it on an impulse, but even if he had stopped to think, he knew he couldn’t have refused. The price of his dimensional power was that a hero’s promise carried the weight of destiny.