Chapter 149: Cruel Truth, Cruel Fate

The Commander of the 0th Legion resumed his stride after a brief pause.

Rumors of his high fever seemed to be true; the gatekeepers couldn’t help but stiffen as the intense heat radiating from him washed over them.

‘No matter how I look at it… he really should be resting in his room instead of going to the library…’

Ignoring the gatekeepers’ unspoken concerns, Deon Hart stepped into the library.

The librarian on one side noticed him and abruptly stood up, but Deon brushed past him as if he were invisible, heading straight for a familiar bookshelf.

He located the targeted book without difficulty.

[Information Regarding the Current Empire’s Heroes]

[Author: Idelia, Develania]

He had relentlessly pressed Idelia and Develania for information about Cruel. He’d uncharacteristically insisted they produce something, anything, even if they had to scrape it together. They replied that the scope was vast and it would take time, but he stubbornly pushed to shorten the deadline.

While the two were busy gathering information, Deon had no intention of idly sitting by.

Deon reached out and pulled the book from the shelf. He flipped through the initial pages haphazardly, stopping where Cruel’s portrait appeared. Familiar green eyes met his.

[(Former) Fourth Hero. Cruel Hart. (Currently Deceased. Information Scheduled for Deletion.)]

[Known to be related to the Third Hero, Deon Hart. While not aligned with the Emperor, he is known to be associated with the Duke who opposes him…]

Right, I stopped reading here last time.

His grip tightened on the book. Deon didn’t even blink as he read the next part.

[…Often seen distorting or countermanding the Duke’s orders, suggesting he was less of a loyal follower and more of a restraining force.]

The Duke wouldn’t have entrusted Cruel with processing critical information, so the orders he received would likely have been the kind involving assassinations or burials.

If so, who were the people the Duke primarily wanted dead?

His fevered brain felt sluggish, but even in this state, Deon could find the answer.

“…Huh.”

Only a laugh escaped his lips.

“Hahaha… Ahahahahaha!!”

He felt like he was going insane. Truly losing his mind.

In his childhood, Cruel had praised his sharp mind—how he loathed that intellect now.

If only he had read this while Cruel was alive, he could have laughed it off, thinking, ‘Surely, I wouldn’t be the target?’ But that nagging unease would have driven him to investigate.

The Duke issuing orders to harm someone, and Cruel acting as a filter between them.

And since Cruel died protecting him, it unequivocally confirmed the suspicions that arose from the initial clue.

There couldn’t be clearer evidence than this.

Coughing up gushes of blood without restraint, Deon laughed like a madman.

It was me.

You were protecting me.

From the noble faction leader’s perspective, who would be the most troublesome individual?

One of the Emperor’s prized swords and known as his loyal dog, an unpredictable figure operating in the shadows unlike the other overtly active heroes.

Wasn’t that none other than Deon Hart?

“Then why did you do it?”

Decades of ingrained habits tried to ignore the overwhelming truth. Consciously stopping himself, his thoughts veered towards blaming Cruel instead.

Because there were still unanswered questions.

“Why did you send me to the battlefield?”

If that’s how you were going to die, you shouldn’t have abandoned me in the first place. Why try to protect me now after sending me to the battlefield?

Did you feel guilty belatedly? If so, then I don’t need to feel guilty. It was just a pathetic hypocrite’s attempt to ease his own conscience.

“Demon.”

“…Lord Demon King.”

Feeling somewhat dazed, he lifted his head.

The Demon King’s gaze slowly moved downwards, assessing Deon’s state, whose face was a mixture of anger, despair, guilt, and countless other indescribable emotions. His sweat-soaked clothes were a sorry sight, but his bare white feet that came into view made the Demon King click his tongue softly.

That lasted only a moment before he spoke, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

“I heard you requested information about Cruel Hart.”

“……”

“The kids were horrified by the sheer volume of it….”

He peered into the crimson eyes with their dark sclera.

“Was it because you genuinely couldn’t specify the range you wanted, or because you couldn’t reveal your desired scope to them?”

“……”

“The latter, I presume.”

Indeed, Cruel Hart was also connected to the Empire’s Third Hero, ‘Deon Hart’, so he would have had to choose his words carefully. Otherwise, his identity as the Commander of the 0th Legion might have been exposed.

Even with a raging fever making coherent thought difficult, he still managed to discern what he could and couldn’t say—remarkable.

After a brief moment of observing Deon with newfound interest, the Demon King softened his expression with a reassuring smile, unwilling to leave the patient he had just saved in such a state.

“Tell me then. It’s alright with me, isn’t it?”

“……”

“I’ll help you.”

The Demon King was already aware of his identity and was concealing it, so there was no need to worry about being caught.

Perhaps feeling a sliver of relief, or maybe because the fever was consuming his reason, Deon staggered towards the Demon King. He raised a trembling hand and grabbed the Demon King’s collar as if clinging to him for support, his words tumbling out.

Incomplete sentences spilled out like a child’s babble.

“So, Cruel died in my place… Even though, we were supposed to be enemies….”

“……Ah.”

The Demon King pieced together the fragmented words, finally understanding the situation, and let out a soft exclamation.

“I understand. I’ll look into it.”

“Thank….”

“But first, let’s get you to bed.”

He hadn’t even touched him directly, only had his collar grabbed, but the air around his skin felt hot. How did he even walk here in this state? Barefoot too.

He lightly touched Deon’s forehead with his fingertip. Deon’s eyes fluttered shut and he collapsed. Only after lifting him with magic did the Demon King recall his magic wasn’t what it used to be.

‘I didn’t even feel a thing when using this level of magic before.’

Now, he could feel his magic slightly diminishing.

But the magic was already used. He’d just carry Deon Hart back to his room, then refrain from using more. He shifted his gaze back to the pitiful human.

Even asleep, he seemed tormented by the fever, his brow faintly furrowed and his breaths shallow and rapid.

“Deon Hart.”

He whispered his name softly, as if confirming he was asleep.

“Do you know when humans fall from grace?”

As a Demon King who had lived for eons, he had witnessed the downfall of countless humans.

Ah, no. ‘Fall from grace’ wasn’t quite right. ‘Break down’ was more accurate.

“It’s when they lose something precious.”

More precisely, when they have nothing left to lose.

When cornered and pushed to their limits, struggling to even breathe, humans utterly break down and become corrupted. There is nothing more terrifying and frightening than such a human.

He spoke the cruel truth softly, like reading from a book.

“You’ve lost the only human who genuinely cared for you.”

It would likely be impossible to find someone like him again.

Who else would be willing to sacrifice everything for another?

“Poor Deon.”

The Demon King chuckled silently.

“Now you truly are alone.”

***

[Before giving the information to Demon, bring it to me first.]

After receiving the research from Idelia and Develania and appropriately summarizing it, the Demon King went to find Deon Hart, holding only a single sheet of paper containing the essence of the findings.

Knowing precisely what information Deon Hart desired, he dismissed everyone from the room and placed the document in his hand directly onto Deon’s lap without hesitation.

“The information Develania and Idelia gathered was too extensive, so I summarized it for you. This is what you wanted, right?”

“…….”

Deon, sitting on the bed, glanced at the Demon King before picking up the paper on his lap. His bloodshot eyes began to scan the words.

His sclera, only slightly red when he read the first word, became increasingly bloodshot as he continued, the area around his eyes turning red. Was it sadness?

…No, this was rage.

“Ha, haha….”

A bitter self-directed killing intent.

During the Eight Years’ War, Cruel was originally scheduled to participate. However, the documents were changed mid-process, and I went instead.

“I….”

The cause was the Duke. He had tampered with the documents and sent me.

The family members I killed with my own hands had sent requests to the Imperial Palace for corrections numerous times in the early stages of the war to bring me back, and when they couldn’t wait any longer, they even sent people, but all were met with silence.

Of course, the person who severed communication from the family was also the Duke.

“What… have I done?”

He wanted to kill him.

He wanted to die. He wanted to drive this useless body to its death in the most brutal way possible right now, but he couldn’t easily end the life that Cruel had risked his own to save.

To suppress his emotions, Deon Hart closed his eyes, finally breaking down and forgetting that the Demon King was present. He frantically threw anything within reach to the floor.

Crash!

Among the items thrown, a flowerpot shattered, sending shards flying. Deon stared blankly at a large fragment that had landed on his blanket before reaching for it.

His attempt to grab it was thwarted by the Demon King, who seized his wrist.

The intervention seemed to snap him out of his daze. Deon followed the hand gripping his wrist with his gaze and met the Demon King’s eyes. A suppressed killing intent and rage swirled within those red pupils.

“….Did the Emperor know about this?”

Hmm. The Demon King released his wrist, crossed his arms, and tilted his head.

He had deliberately omitted the information about ‘why the Duke acted that way’, but he truly isn’t asking. Well, he probably doesn’t have the capacity to think about that right now.

Well, it’s convenient for my side, so it doesn’t matter.

“He even rewarded the contributions, so of course he knew.”

“Haha.”

Deon slowly ran a hand over his face.

He understood why Cruel had said those words.

If he hadn’t ‘broken down the wall’ beforehand, the overwhelming truth he received now would have shattered the already strained barrier, causing even more immense stress.

“Cough.”

Even the current him, who had barely managed to cope after breaking down the wall beforehand, found this truth and the accompanying stress unbearable. If it had hit him all at once when the wall crumbled, what would have happened?

‘Just breaking down the wall almost killed me.’

Without a doubt, he would have died.

‘Even in death, you’re protecting me.’

The more he knew, the stronger the urge to kill himself became. What should he do?

He couldn’t simply discard the life you saved.

As his anger reached its peak, he became strangely calm. Instead of throwing more things or screaming, Deon quietly lifted his head and stared into the empty space.

‘Hyung.’

I’m sorry.

He knew he wasn’t qualified to apologize, and that a simple ‘sorry’ couldn’t fix anything, but no other words came to mind.

‘I shouldn’t be thinking like this anymore.’

Truly.

‘I want to die.’

As if the suppressed emotions were being replaced by blood, a metallic liquid surged up his throat. The Demon King’s surprised exclamation of “Oh…” was the last thing Deon heard before surrendering to the darkness consuming his consciousness.

***

A world built on misunderstandings and delusions had shattered.

***

The moment Deon Hart regained consciousness, he looked for the Demon King.

The Demon King calmly looked up at Deon, who stood resolutely in front of his office desk, much like the time he had submitted his resignation. He picked up the nearby communication stone. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Ben, come to my office door immediately.”

– Yes? Are you hurt, sir?!”

“No. And it’s ‘office door’, not ‘office’, so don’t get confused. Wait there until I call you.”

Confusion at the strange command was clear even through the communicator, but the Demon King ignored it, as the person he needed to focus on was not Ben. He ended the call.

Putting down the communication stone, he looked up at Deon again. Their eyes met, and Deon’s dark eyes narrowed into crescent moons.

“Then, I’ll ask you now.”

“…….”

“Why did you come all the way here?”

“Despite not feeling well.”