Chapter 205: Concerns and Conditions

“Sir Deon seems to cherish that quite a bit…”

Should I tell him? Or does he already know? Would I just be meddling?

He’s human, so he probably doesn’t know. Lirinel still had nightmares about Deon Hart, heartbroken and on the verge of death. She never wanted to see Sir Deon suffer like that again. So, she spoke carefully,

“Um… Sir Deon.”

“Hm?”

“About that wooden box.”

“…What about it?”

“The magic on it is almost gone. Should I reapply it for you?”

His eyes, which had been coolly subdued, widened with shock.

He really didn’t know. Lirinel quickly added,

“It looks like a preservation spell… and those kinds of spells steadily drain magic from the caster. It seems the caster either died or stopped because it was too much of a burden. Thankfully, it hasn’t completely disappeared yet, so if I reapply it, there shouldn’t be any problems…”

Before Lirinel could finish, Deon shot to his feet and strode towards the wooden box with hurried steps. His hand, trembling slightly, reached for the lid.

He was vaguely aware of Lirinel’s worried gaze from behind, but he couldn’t afford to care.

He just took a short, deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened the box. There was no scent of blood.

‘……’

Right, now he couldn’t check for decay by the smell of blood.

He glared at the viscous liquid at his feet with a nervous twitch, then reached out a trembling hand. But just before he touched it, a thought flashed through his mind, and he abruptly stopped.

‘…What if it’s already decaying?’

He shouldn’t touch it carelessly. The more he touched it, the more it would fall apart.

Instead, he called out to the source of the anxious gaze behind him.

“…Lirinel.”

“Yes, Sir Deon!”

“You said the preservation magic hasn’t completely disappeared, right?”

“Yes, the magic’s effect is still there.”

“…I see.”

He closed the lid.

Why hadn’t he thought of this? He’d killed the Duke, the caster of the magic, himself. He should have considered the possibility of his magic disappearing when he died.

‘Idiot.’

Lirinel, seemingly made uneasy by the silence, fidgeted with her teacup, glancing at him cautiously, and then spoke tentatively.

“I can reapply it…”

“No, it’s fine.”

Reason returned.

It was magic that steadily drained magic power. He couldn’t ask Lirinel to do it. He picked up the box, cradling it in his arms, and smiled faintly, pretending to be okay.

“I think our tea time will have to end here. Something suddenly came up.”

“Ah, yes!”

Deon gently nudged her back as she scrambled to her feet and led her out of the room. His destination was obvious.

He was going to see the Demon King.

***

“It hasn’t been long since we last saw each other, but did you miss me already?”

As always, the Demon King accepted his unannounced visit calmly.

He put down his pen, looked up, and grinned. It was a playful smile meant to lighten the mood, but Deon seemed in no mood to reciprocate, his expression still grim as he approached the Demon King’s desk.

The wooden box was placed on the desk.

“Can you see the magic on this?”

“The preservation magic, you mean? It’s almost gone.”

“Reapply it, please.”

“……”

“Please reapply it.”

“……”

“Reapply it for me.”

It was an audacious request.

The last words were almost demanding. The Demon King seemed taken aback by his brazen attitude, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly. Then, a soft chuckle, like a cough, escaped him.

“You could have asked Lirinel to do that, couldn’t you?”

“But isn’t Lord Demon King’s magic more trustworthy? As you said, it’s just ‘that much’ magic. Can’t you just do it for me?”

“You’re really pushing it.”

His crimson eyes narrowed as he suppressed a smile.

Casting the magic itself wasn’t difficult. But in a situation where conserving magic was preferable, having to cast a spell that steadily consumed magic, however little, was unappealing.

Back when his magic had been overflowing, he’d readily done things he wasn’t even asked to do, but things were different now.

‘So, Deon.’

His tightly closed lips curved into a meaningful smile.

‘Offer me a condition first.’

He wouldn’t bother asking, ‘If I do that for you, what will you do for me?’

He simply remained silent and smiled. He didn’t need to ask with words, did he? Deon wasn’t oblivious; he’d quickly grasp the meaning of his silence.

As expected, Deon, seeing the Demon King’s silence, sighed.

“If you reapply the magic, I’ll move out immediately.”

He added a whimper, almost a groan, that he had originally planned to rest for a few more days…

But for the Demon King, that much wouldn’t be appealing. So, he continued,

“You mentioned the Empire received mercenary support from Esperance, right?”

“I did.”

“I’ll make sure those mercenaries from Esperance withdraw from the Empire.”

Only then did a change appear on the Demon King’s face.

Not the impenetrable smile, but a genuine smile of interest.

“I don’t like empty promises. What’s the deadline?”

“I’ll move out right away. I’ll go to the Human Realm. I’ll bring back results when I return. If the outcome is positive, visible results will be out within a month at the latest.”

“Alright, I’ll give you a month.”

It meant he should return quickly with results without lingering in the Human Realm.

The Demon King reached out and tapped the wooden box.

It was a trivial gesture, but Deon, as a Hero, could sense it instantly. Something had changed. It must be the magic being reapplied.

“If you fail, I’ll remove the magic again.”

“……”

“Then, safe travels.”

Deon silently hugged the box and turned to leave. He was about to exit the room without hesitation when a soft voice called out from behind.

“Deon.”

“……”

“I’m here.”

…Yes, the Demon King was here. The enemy he had to kill was here.

He knew that better than anyone. So, there was no need to say such things. Even without that, he would return here without running away to the Human Realm.

He stopped and turned around. When their eyes met, the Demon King grinned and waved.

“When you get back, I’ll teach you piano as a hobby.”

“……”

“Let’s try it out, and if you don’t like it, we can try something else.”

***

Deon pulled up his hood and carefully carried the magically enchanted wooden box in his arms as he headed towards what used to be his mansion.

He slightly lifted his hood to look at the sky, then fiddled with the front of it. It had been a while since he’d worn a hood, and it felt a bit stifling compared to before, but he couldn’t take it off. It wasn’t the sunlight that was the problem.

Having become a Hero and regained his health was one thing, but Deon Hart had become a detestable human who openly sided with the Demon Realm, his face known throughout the continent. The moment he was recognized, he’d be pelted with stones.

The path to the Count’s Estate, no, the Marquis’s Estate… now an abandoned mansion, felt quite unfamiliar, perhaps because it had been so long. Was that why he kept turning his head to look around even when there was nothing to see? The journey took longer than he’d anticipated.

He even paused to look at some white wild roses he found along the way, and gazed up at the blue sky and sun, which he hadn’t seen in ages…

Having taken his time, he arrived at the mansion, which was exactly as he expected—no one guarding the main gate. Unlike his expectation that it would be in ruins from angry people, it was surprisingly in good condition.

‘The gate’s locked, too…’

He gently pushed against the locked iron gate, careful not to break it, then stepped back.

A locked gate probably meant someone was inside. Well, he pretty much knew who it would be without even looking.

“Heave-ho.”

He secured the box tightly under his arm and, with a simple leap, easily jumped over the main gate and entered the grounds.

Walking further in, he could definitely feel it. It had always been quiet since they didn’t employ many people, but the atmosphere was distinctly different when there was no one at all.

He kept looking around, feeling the strangeness of the familiar place with an unfamiliar atmosphere, as he slowly crossed the inner grounds. He faintly heard singing when he was almost at the back garden.

“In a world long ago, Death spoke,”

A familiar song. A familiar voice.

Deon quickened his pace. He just had to head towards the sound of the song, so finding the source wasn’t difficult.

“Do not commit sins.”

In a sunny spot in the back garden, an old man in a tailcoat was pruning trees.

A quiet song, almost a hum, echoed gently.

“The soul after death begins to crumble, weighed down by the burden of your sins.”

This song, it’s been a long time since he last heard it.

Hearing it like this, it felt quite nostalgic. It was a song he used to hear often before the Eight Years’ War broke out.

Parents would sing it to their children, and even kids on the streets would hum it when they were bored. The lyrics were roughly a warning not to sin, or something like that.

With the start of the era of war sparked by the Eight Years’ War, it naturally disappeared as the environment became one where you couldn’t survive without sinning.

“Evading retribution and simply vanishing is too easy an escape.”

“……”

“Ah, you’ve arrived.”

Rememver, who had noticed Deon standing there as if entranced, approached with a gentle smile. His demeanor was so calm, one would never guess he was facing a legion commander of the Demon King’s army.

“That song is nostalgic. I’d completely forgotten about it.”

“It’s the privilege of an old man detached from war.”

For an old man living a peaceful life, ten years ago feels like just yesterday.

He was about to retort, ‘Detached, my foot,’ but Rememver was quicker. He smiled and offered a belated greeting.

“It’s been a while, Master.”

“…Rememver is as composed as ever.”

“You, Master, have changed quite a bit.”

“It’s the environment, I suppose. More importantly…”

Deon glanced around at the deserted surroundings for no reason, then looked back at Rememver.

“Where did everyone else go? Why are you here alone?”

“They all went on vacation. I decided to use my butler’s authority for once.”

“…Sending everyone away and staying alone, that’s overstepping your authority.”

“It made me realize the sweetness of power.”

Lighthearted conversation, filled with laughter, flowed between them.

As if adjusting the balance within it, Rememver dropped the jokes and bluntly stated the truth.

“Those who wanted to leave, I let them go. And those who didn’t, I gave them vacation time.”

His tone was light, but there was a strange sense of unease.

Deon tilted his head for a moment, then realized. This was the last report as a butler.

With this report as the end, the master-servant relationship they had formed would disappear. Well, there was no need to stay here any longer. Staying would only bring losses.

‘This kind of ending is new.’

He had personally ended many relationships so far, and had been on the receiving end of endings as well. Yet, a relationship ending like this was a first. The only kind of endings he knew were extreme ones, like death.

Perhaps that was why he felt inexplicably strange. Deon closed his mouth for a moment, then answered calmly, pretending to be nonchalant.

“There’s no need to mince words. They’ve all left, haven’t they?”

“No, there were those who genuinely wanted to stay. Especially three of them were quite enthusiastic. They were fervently shouting that a pretty face excuses everything…”

“…Were they perhaps the maids?”

“You know them well. It seems you have an idea who they are.”

“…You’re joking.”

“Ho ho. If that’s what you wish to believe.”

Rememver stepped back.

It was time to wake up from the dream. The gently flowing atmosphere shifted.

Deon lowered his hood. Rememver also dropped his playful demeanor and respectfully bowed his head. His voice, now businesslike, followed.

“You must have come for a conversation. Please, allow me to escort you to the reception room.”

“…Yes.”