Chapter 236: Hypocrite

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” Deon’s expression turned cold.

Longing for the bed in his room, Deon watched the scene with pitying eyes. He approached the still dejected 8th Legion Commander, wanting to wrap things up quickly and get back to his room.

“I understand you lack faith in yourself, but that’s no reason to skip the expedition. Enough moping around, get up.”

“But…”

“And you’re plenty capable, so those worries are pointless.”

Hel, who had been crouching, slowly lifted his head. A solid black shadow where his mouth should be mumbled hesitantly.

…Are you… serious?

Yes.

Deon placed a hand on his shoulder. His red eyes gleamed with sincerity.

“If you can’t believe in yourself, then believe in me. Because I know you’ll do great.”

…!

Hel’s body went rigid instantly.

He was so stiff, Deon wondered if he’d turned to stone. Then his body began to tremble, and a choked voice came out.

“I understand…! I… Absolutely… I won’t let you down!”

…He was moved.

Seeing him brimming with motivation made Deon feel inexplicably suffocated. He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, wearily closing his eyes.

Even with his eyes closed, the blood, swallowing his ankles and rising above his anklebones, was vividly palpable. He could hear someone whispering in his ear.

—Hypocrite.

…

Deon remained impassive.

Ignoring the whispers calling him a hypocrite and trash, Deon pretended nothing was amiss, curled up the corners of his lips and calmly replied.

…Yes.

Lifting his eyelids, Deon’s turbidly gleaming red eyes focused on Hel.

Deon was suddenly grateful that Hel was a Shadow. Because Shadows lacked physical substance, he was spared from having to meet his gaze.

Shadows didn’t have eyes. If Hel had eyes, Deon wouldn’t have been able to meet his gaze.

He reached out a hand absently.

…Sir Deon?

His hand hovered near where eyes should have been.

At the bewildered voice, Deon curled his fingers into a tight fist. He could easily imagine the look in his eyes without seeing them directly.

Clear, pure, and full of motivation… It must be the very ‘human’ gaze people talked about. If he had to face that gaze directly, Deon knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Even his actions and tone alone conveyed such stifling purity, how could Deon possibly bear that gaze?

Hel.

Yes, Sir Deon.

Instead of speaking immediately, Deon offered him a faint smile.

…What is the difference between demons and humans aside from appearances?

Demons were not the ‘absolute evil’ they were made out to be. From what Deon had seen up close, they were in some ways more innocent than humans.

As his thoughts drifted that far, a thought occurred to him.

‘I almost wish you really were ‘evil’.’

Nothing would have stood in the way of his plan, and he’d feel less burdened by his sins.

It was like a black stone from a world of white stones rolling into a world supposedly full of black stones, only to find it was a world of gray stones instead. Realizing there was no stone darker than himself, Deon was newly aware of just how black he himself was.

‘…Ha, must be the medicine. Getting all sorts of ridiculous thoughts.’

Even Deon wasn’t sure what he was thinking anymore.

Even if they really were evil, nothing would change. The plan would still be the same, and he’d probably dwell on the weight of his sins even more, lest he forget. He’d be even more exhausted than he already was.

Cutting off his thoughts there, Deon got a grip and stubbed out his cigarette against his neck, looking at the very human-like demon before him. Words of not-quite-advice drifted out slowly.

…I heard the advance units ran into trouble with traps, so you should watch out too, just in case.

Ah…! Yes, I understand!

—Hypocrite.

The voice spoke, and the stench of blood assaulted his nostrils. Deon took out a new cigarette and smiled, as if in response to the voice.

‘I know.’

***

Around the time Deon Hart was seeing off the 8th Legion Commander, Ed, who would usually be at Deon’s side, assisting him, was walking through the garden.

Hien, watching him from a distance, cocked his head.

To anyone else, Ed might have seemed his usual self, but Hien, who was more attuned to reading people than anyone, could tell. Ed was downcast.

‘What’s going on…?’

Knowing Ed disliked him, Hien also knew he should keep his distance, but… He couldn’t tear himself away from this completely new sight.

Was Hien’s persistent hovering nearby starting to irritate Ed?

‘Ah, he’s picking something up.’

Bending down, Ed picked up a pebble from the ground and swung his arm in Hien’s direction.

A sharp WHIZZ! sound – something whizzed past Hien’s head, and the sound of a nearby plant snapping followed immediately after.

…

Get lost.

A voice completely unlike his usual composed demeanor, like a wounded beast growling.

It felt as if a wounded beast was baring its teeth to hide its weakness. Hesitating, Hien raised his head, and only when he met Ed’s glaring eyes did he snap out of it and slowly backed away.

It was then that a smirking voice spoke up.

Temper is something else, I see.

Ben, holding a medical bag in one hand, waved his free hand casually and stepped between Hien and Ed.

Ed’s face twisted in displeasure at Ben’s intrusion. Hien, having inadvertently slipped out of Ed’s line of sight, looked momentarily bewildered, then quickly made himself scarce.

Ed, quietly watching Hien’s quickly retreating figure, turned to Ben, his annoyance plain to see.

You get lost too.

Scary, are we? Sir Deon should know about that temper of yours.

The words were casually tossed off, but the reaction was anything but casual.

…Shut that mouth of yours.

Already on edge because of issues concerning Deon Hart, this was the worst thing Ben could have said.

The air around them chilled. Ed’s voice laced with malice.

However, Ben, the berserker and physician who had traded barbs with legion commanders before, calmly took a seat. Shrugging off Ed’s malice, Ben patted the space beside him, inviting Ed to sit.

“Don’t be so tense. Let’s have a drink, just us idle demons.”

“What are you going on about? When you don’t even have any alcohol.”

Hmm?

…

Ed fell silent as an alcohol bottle was produced from the medical bag.

The question ‘Why is that coming out of there?’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back to show he wasn’t interested in talking and turned away.

Quack.

What?!

But Ed couldn’t resist retorting.

Ben flew into a rage, demanding to know why he was a quack. Watching Ben’s outburst seemed to improve Ed’s mood slightly. Ed watched him silently for a moment before adding.

“Having alcohol bottles in a sacred medical bag says it all. I guess physicians these days treat patients with alcohol.”

…Damn you.

Ben, who seriously considered smashing the alcohol bottle over Ed’s head, sighed heavily and popped the cap off the bottle instead.

Ed stared at Ben, surprised by his uncharacteristically docile reaction for a moment, then turned to face forward again. A slightly softer voice broke the silence of the empty garden.

‘Idle demons’… So, you’ve become idle too, have you? Well, now that Sir Deon is the Hero, I guess it’s to be expected.

Yeah, practically unemployed.

It was practically a soliloquy, and could have been taken as an insult, but Ben’s reaction was uncharacteristically mild.

After a moment of silence, Ed slowly posed a question.

Aren’t you resentful?

“Well, as a physician, I’m actually glad. It’s proof Sir Deon is healthy.”

Though his mental state is another matter.

Muttering under his breath, Ben produced two glasses from his medical bag, poured alcohol into them and offered one to Ed. The word ‘quack’ was on the tip of Ed’s tongue again as he watched, but Ed managed to bite it back this time.

After they’d taken the glasses and sipped in silence for a while, the silence between them, which had stretched out to be long or short depending on how you looked at it, was broken when Ben suddenly spoke.

If, say if…

…

“If Lord Demon King and Sir Deon were ever to come into conflict, whose side would you take?”

…Insolent question.

I said, say if.

Not worth answering.

Ed turned his head sharply away and raised his glass to his lips. Ben, watching him silently, remarked casually.

Dodging the question, are you?

…

Does that mean you can’t choose?

…I’m loyal to both of them. I can’t choose. Being loyal to Sir Deon is the same as being loyal to Lord Demon King, so there’s no conflict.

That’s why I said ‘if’ – it’s hypothetical. Indecisive, aren’t you?

Ed, about to snap back and ask who Ben would choose, flinched as a thought suddenly struck him, and he snapped his mouth shut.

…That hypothetical of yours…

The atmosphere turned heavy.

Ben fell silent, sensing the shift in mood. Ed squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again.

…Thinking about the reason for Sir Deon’s sudden distance, a question had been plaguing Ed. Did the current situation really warrant such distance?

What if… just what if…

‘What if there really was something else he didn’t know?’

It was as if he’d found a missing piece of a puzzle. The puzzle clicked into place.

…No, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Just as he was about to reach a conclusion, Ed deliberately cut off his train of thought and forced himself to speak.

“Does that mean Sir Deon… is even contemplating treason?”

Was that why Sir Deon was distancing himself from him?

He was waiting for the war with the Human Realm to end quickly so he could mend their relationship, but Sir Deon’s demeanor might not return to normal even after the war.

Though Ed tried to appear calm, his fingertips were trembling slightly. If his speculation was right, what should he do? The worst-case scenario that came to mind made him blurt out.

Answer me.

…You’re jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

Ben watched Ed for a moment, then chuckled and shrugged.

“It doesn’t have to be treason. Wouldn’t even a simple disagreement fall under the definition of ‘conflict’?”

…Are you serious?

Yeah.

Their eyes met in the air.

After staring into Ben’s eyes for a long moment, Ed finally sighed heavily. A voice devoid of energy, as if he’d been completely drained, asked weakly.

“Then whose side would you take?”

Hmm.

“Huh, you were so quick to pressure me, and now you’re…!”

“I’m a physician.”

That short sentence cut off Ed’s retort.

Ben smiled at Ed, who had fallen silent and was staring at him.

“My patient always comes first.”

Once, Ben had made a terrible mistake.

Ben had even dared to offer his patient alcohol. Sir Deon’s words at the time had been so impactful, he’d never forget them.

[Think carefully about who your patient is.]

[Well… not that I expected anything anyway.]

It was an incident that cost Ben his credibility as a physician. How could he possibly forget?

Ben didn’t care about the pressure of Deon’s arm against his chest then, or even the dagger at his throat and the threat to his life.

It was Ben’s shaken identity as a physician, and the loss of trust, those words, striking at the heart of the matter, that made his heart plummet.

Since then, Ben had vowed time and time again never to repeat that mistake.

Even if Lord Demon King was the Lord of all demons, and the one who sent him to serve Sir Deon, his patient was still Sir Deon, not Lord Demon King.

A physician’s only concern was their patient.

…That sounds like a rather dangerous thing to say.

“It’s just that a physician cares about their patient, what’s dangerous about that?”

…

Keeping his vow close to his heart, Ben merely smiled.