Chapter 285: A Savage Contest and Unsettling Revelations

‘You don’t say… they really went hunting on their own?’

Those mad bastards. It looks like the magical beasts were far more abundant than expected—and what if things had gotten really dangerous?

Deon pressed his forehead. The scenes on the screen were enough to give him a pounding headache.

‘We’re on the same team, yet they hunt like fierce competitors…’

One might think they belonged to different teams.

Especially our own—they know they’re no match, yet they still struggle so desperately.

And those 0th Legion members, teasing as they hunt, are another issue. Sure, the mad dogs have a knack for choosing their fights…

‘Even Ed, who’s in command, seems completely indifferent.’

Deon fixed his gaze on Ed on the screen, who appeared more intent on showing results for recognition than battling the mad dogs, then shifted his eyes to Dan, who seemed to serve a similar role on the human side.

It feels like only yesterday he couldn’t even handle a sword, and now he effortlessly slices through magical beasts.

‘……’

Reacting on instinct, he glanced toward Dan in real life. Their eyes met, as if Dan had been watching all along.

…Still, unless absolutely necessary, Deon wasn’t in the mood to chat. Pretending not to notice, he turned back to the screen; a knowing smirk flickered at the edge of his vision.

‘The total number of magical beasts hunted is…’

845.

By now, the human realm’s hunting contest looked almost laughable. After all, it’s an individual competition with a cap on support per participant.

‘Still, it’s surprising.’

It was a hunt without a legion commander. In any case—allegedly under the banner of ‘representatives’—the Lofty Knights participated with everyone’s tacit approval, knowing that whether Deon Hart joined or not wouldn’t affect the outcome much.

‘They’re dangerous opponents, after all.’

When they operate without any leash, it’s either a total knockout or a complete bust.

Landing second place under those conditions was undeniably commendable.

Deon wasn’t alone in thinking that; murmurs began surfacing from all around.

“Even with Sir Deon out…”

“…it just proves it isn’t the 0th Legion.”

“I thought they were just troublemakers, yet the humans are pretty impressive too…”

“Maybe that’s why Sir Deon brought them along…”

Once again, Deon felt Ed’s gaze. Their eyes met briefly, but Deon pretended otherwise—even as he sensed a tinge of bitterness.

Moreover… combining the counts of first and second places, they’d already surpassed 2,000. Deon murmured in awe.

“…That’s one massive haul.”

I wonder how many the other legions managed.

Whatever the case, it was clear that after this contest the number of magical beasts in the human realm would dwindle to nearly nothing.

As if to endorse Deon’s muttering, the Demon King whispered from nearby about the 0th Legion’s count.

“For your information, your direct human operatives have hunted 107 beasts.”

“…That’s a lot indeed.”

I never imagined it would hit triple digits.

“Pfft.”

The Demon King let out a low chuckle at his own admiring mumble.

“Yes, they really pulled through. They fought with all they had.”

“But what’s the point of it all…”

The fact that warriors—more skilled at demoralizing enemies than slaying beasts—managed these numbers spoke volumes of their sheer determination. Deon wore a baffled expression.

Instead of answering, the Demon King scanned the crowd. Gradually, the interest in the screen faded. With a flick of his fingers, he dismissed it.

“Shall we move on to the next segment?”

Now that he mentioned it, the fight for third place had been quite impressive. Clearing his mind, Deon looked at the Demon King with genuine curiosity. Others showed a similar spark of interest.

With an urging glance, the Demon King smiled softly in their direction.

“Third place goes to the 8th Corps. Even without a legion commander, they put up a valiant effort.”

The image of the 8th Corps hunting flashed on the screen: 529 beasts. Though lower than the leading counts, it left everyone speechless.

The screen showed 8th Corps members thumping magical beasts with massive shields. It wasn’t a light tap—it was ruthless. Had it been that mild, even the legion commanders wouldn’t have been silent.

“Blood pulp…”

Someone muttered under their breath.

“They’re turning it into blood pulp…”

“Like kneading dough, as if the beasts were mere clay…”

It was almost heartbreaking to witness the beasts treated so callously.

Staring blankly at the screen, 4th Corps Commander Idelia mumbled.

“I always thought the 8th Corps were as gentle as their former commander…”

“…Are they now?”

“…I know, so just be quiet.”

Who would have guessed they could hunt magical beasts with nothing but shields…

Amid voices of shock and admiration, the 8th Corps members straightened their shoulders and raised their heads. Their look seemed to plead, ‘We’ve proven our worth—don’t abandon us,’ which made the Demon King smirk.

Originally, the 8th Corps was meant to be left alone since, aside from losing their commander, their forces were intact.

‘I’d better keep my mouth shut about this.’

Any comment might spark a riot.

With a light nod, he stood up. Casting his eyes away from the jubilant 8th Corps, he surveyed his surroundings.

From the mud-splattered, first-place 7th Corps to the barely noticeable 5th Corps, he inspected every legion’s presence before turning back to the 1st Corps.

“Then, let’s conclude today’s hunting contest.”

“…?”

“If any legion is curious about their ranking, just place your hand on a mana stone.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

…’Today’?

The expressions of the legion commanders grew strange. Despite someone’s mutter, the Demon King nonchalantly tilted his head as if pondering.

“Since this is a contest, at least the winner should receive a prize…”

Ha, you didn’t even think about rewards? Even if the main focus is hunting magical beasts… Deon shot an incredulous look from beside him.

“How about we allocate an extra budget? Use it however you like—it could even fund a modest banquet for the 1st Corps.”

The faces of the 1st Corps brightened—only to then darken as they exchanged sideways glances. Noticing their looks, the Demon King smirked knowingly at 1st Corps Commander Jaykar.

“Ideally, it should be used to honor the hard work of the legion members. Oh, and commanders will receive an extra stipend, so they can splurge a bit for themselves.”

“Understood.”

“Alright, let’s kick off the banquet then.”

After all, they were gathered right here in the outdoor banquet hall. Without relocating, demon servants began serving food onto tables placed around the area on the Demon King’s signal.

After a long, grueling war, the tense atmosphere had only thickened. Overstrained nerves tend to ruin things. So, aside from the hunting contest, the Demon King mentally rechecked the banquet layout.

‘Place the core troops—commanders and their adjutants—inside, legion members outdoors, and the rest of the soldiers in the outer section… and ensure that none of these paths intersect with the route to the central garden…’

None did.

Good, at least no one is near the route to the central garden.

That was enough. The Demon King smirked subtly.

“Starting from the day after tomorrow, there will be a second hunting contest. Since using mana stones then is a hassle, each legion will be assigned a specific hunting area. You have until 8 PM on that day—so pace yourselves. When the servants count manually, don’t overdo it like today.”

After all, most of the beasts were already caught today.

A playful comment sparked laughter all around. The Demon King spun around and, as he left, casually tossed off his words.

“For three days, eat, drink, and hunt to your heart’s content. Take care not to get injured. That’s all.”

“Wooohoo!!”

Cheers erupted where he had stood.

***

At the open-air banquet hall, the Lofty Knights reveled in the feast, while Ed, missing such a rare celebration, excused himself to review protocol and etiquette.

And as for Dan…

“How much will it be?”

“…I’ll bet a chip.”

“Huh, you put up the smallest amount. Are you short on cash?”

“Short? Me?”

In the indoor banquet hall, he had set up a betting game with a legion commander.

Where did he even get those chips? If things went awry, not his wrist but his neck might be at risk—they’re so bold. Deon looked nervously at the legion commanders clustered around him.

‘Not only the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Corps, but even the 7th and 9th—only complete madmen would gather like this.’

It’s obvious that none of the legion commanders are normal.

While the 3rd and 4th Corps commanders exchanged heated words, 2nd Corps Commander Develania seemed more intrigued by something other than the game, often glancing at Dan. At least the 7th and 9th maintained a calm interest in the game, but Deon furrowed his brow, knowing they were the craziest of them all.

Lirinel, who had been watching the betting game, suddenly looked away.

“I—I’m not interested in that sort of thing!”

“…”

Who cares anyway?

Choosing not to reply, he motioned for them to follow and headed toward the terrace.

Once on the terrace, after meticulously drawing the curtains, he turned to Lirinel. Raising his index finger to his lips, he softly called her.

“Lirinel.”

“Yes, Sir Deon…!”

“Shh.”

Although she responded quietly, her voice still carried a bit too loudly.

Taking a step forward, Deon closed the already narrow gap between them and placed his hand on Lirinel’s shoulders. Ignoring her dazed expression, he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

The question he’d been dying to ask slipped out in a hushed murmur.

“How much mana does the Demon King have left?”

“Ah, uh…?”

“…”

“I…I’m not sure.”

“…What?”

Her expression still shone with the awe of one in the presence of a deity, yet she clearly understood the question. Sensing that she was sincere, Deon looked puzzled.

“Why?”

“Well… at some point, you started wearing a device to hide your mana.”

“…Huh?”

***

This was the moment—the time when Deon and all the legion commanders had gathered together.

After signaling the start of the banquet, the Demon King departed immediately, clutching a premium mana stone as he strode across the hall. His destination: the central garden.

Deon, along with the legion commanders, were overly perceptive. If he was away for too long, someone would notice. So he quickened his pace.

Thud!

He collided with a demon servant hurrying through the hall.

“Ah.”

“Ah! Gasp! S-sorry…!!”

Then came the next problem.

Thunk.

A cuff button that had snagged on the servant’s cleaning tool fell off.

“S-sorry…?!”

The demon servant, whose face went ghostly white at the sight of the Demon King, froze—then slowly lifted his head.

“D-Demon King…?”

“…Oh dear.”

Though he certainly appeared to be the Demon King, the amount of mana he emanated was laughably low—something even a mere servant could sense.

At that moment, the Demon King, who had been staring at his empty sleeve, looked up and grinned softly. Like a casual sweep of his waist, his calm voice flowed out.

“You saw that, huh.”

“…!”

Somehow, an eerie chill fell over the room. As the servant, struck by a sense of foreboding, took a step back, there came a sudden—thud.

It felt as if his neck had been pierced.