Chapter 7: The 0th Corps Commander, Deon Hart

Dressed in a crisp black uniform, I strode confidently toward the commanders’ exclusive dining hall.

Each time soldiers spotted me in the hallway, they would flinch, then bow deeply as if they’d seen a Medusa.

At first, it was unnerving and frightening, but now I’m almost grateful. You guys are genuinely intimidating. I once had a head-on encounter, and I swear I almost turned to stone. Me, not you, of course.

Ignoring the gazes that bored into me, I stopped before a massive door. The guards flanking it visibly trembled before snapping to attention.

“D-Did you come for dinner, sir?”

“Yes, I have.”

“T-Then I’ll open the door.”

The enormous door swung open smoothly, without so much as a creak.

Stepping inside, the lively chatter of the dining hall abruptly ceased, replaced by silence. Feeling the collective stare focus on me, I inwardly groaned.

This is exactly why I try to avoid the dining hall!

Every gaze belonged to a ‘Corps Commander,’ individuals whose sheer power could single-handedly sway the tide of battle!

“…”

“…”

O-Oh, what do I do?

Stay calm, stay calm. First things first, get some food.

Forcing myself to appear nonchalant, I started walking. With each step, the intense stares followed, but I pretended not to notice, focusing solely on the cooks.

It seemed the cooks were moving even faster now.

‘Yes, please hurry,’ I pleaded silently.

Just standing here under the scrutiny of these commanders felt like torture.

“Y-Your meal is ready. H-Have a d-delicious—I mean, enjoy your meal.”

Clatter, clatter.

I glanced down at the tremulous tray before raising my eyes to meet the cook’s.

You’re quite nervous, aren’t you? Well… with all the corps commanders gathered here, who wouldn’t be?

Offering a reassuring smile, a mixture of sympathy and encouragement, only made the clattering intensify.

Worried he might drop it, I reached out to take the tray… and disaster struck.

Wham!

…I reached too high.

I thought I was doing better than the cook, but it seemed I was just as tense.

My hand, moving too quickly and too high, struck the tray from below. Sent airborne by my clumsy gesture, the tray spun in mid-air, scattering food before crashing loudly onto the floor.

“…”

“…”

An even more chilling silence descended.

Muttering a silent curse, I ran a hand down my face.

Damn it, I messed up.

***

Evil. He’s truly evil.

That was the unanimous thought echoing through the dining hall.

Deon Hart.

The one who killed the last hero, brought here personally by the Demon King. Rumor had it even the Demon King couldn’t easily cross him—such was his formidable power. The commander of the Demon King’s 0th Legion.

Every commander present could attest: he was a dangerous individual.

His usual mild demeanor? Trust it at your peril. His trigger for anger simply differed from others’.

Look at this. Not long ago, he let off the caretaker who’d failed to cultivate the man-eating plants properly, resulting in an attack on Deon himself. Yet now, a cook who merely ‘trembled’ had his tray sent flying.

‘Still, this seems excessive, even for him…’

The 1st Corps Commander, Jaykar, subtly tilted his knife as he observed the scene unfolding before him.

…Come to think of it, wasn’t it him who set the gardens ablaze? Setting fires usually indicated significant displeasure.

His mind raced through possibilities before settling on what seemed most likely.

‘What if… he hadn’t truly forgiven them back then?’

Perhaps destroying the garden was merely a restrained act of frustration, unwilling to reduce the Demon King’s forces further.

If that lingering anger had finally found an outlet…

‘Pity the cook,’ he thought.

He was simply the unlucky target of Deon’s pent-up fury.

Jaykar’s gaze shifted to Deon’s black attire. That was likely a silent warning: ‘I’m in a foul mood today; don’t bother me.’

Keeping his eyes fixed on the scene, Jaykar slowly sliced his meat and brought it to his mouth.

He felt a pang of sympathy for the cook, but pity aside, he wouldn’t intervene. Risking a confrontation with the 0th Legion Commander over a mere cook was a foolish proposition.

He had no desire for a meaningless death at the hands of an ally, far from the glory of the battlefield. And so, Jaykar remained silent.

The other commanders likely felt the same. That was probably the reason for their collective silence.

Deon’s expression had hardened. His blood-red eyes, now dark and intense, were fixed on the cook.

He was definitely angry. Unless the cook prostrated himself and begged for forgiveness…

“I-I’m so, so sorry!!”

So, this was a cook accustomed to serving commanders. He was quick on the uptake.

Jaykar speared a piece of salad with his fork, subtly observing Deon’s reaction. The intense gaze flickered.

“He seems to be weighing his options,” Asild, the 3rd Corps Commander sitting nearby, murmured. Jaykar gave a silent nod of agreement, continuing to observe.

What would he do?

He wouldn’t kill him, would he? He usually abhorred taking lives unnecessarily.

Would he set something on fire again, or simply leave the cook crippled?

Deon was an enigma. Jaykar’s eyes remained fixed, determined not to miss a single movement.

***

Deon Hart, this life is doomed. The simple sentence echoed in my mind.

My mind blank, I stared dumbly at the cook, who was trembling before me.

The cook looked even paler than I felt.

Of course, he’d be upset and angry that his carefully prepared dish was now topping for the floor. But his opponent was a commander, so he couldn’t express his anger… He was desperately trying to suppress his frustration. I should apologize. Otherwise, who knows when or where I might get stabbed in the back?

Just as I was about to apologize, the cook suddenly dropped to his knees.

“I-I’m so, so sorry!!”

?!

What in the world?

This sudden, unexpected action startled me. My eyes probably widened in shock.

I quickly regained my composure and looked down at the cook with a bewildered expression.

“…Please, get up.”

“Forgive me, please have mercy!”

No, anyone looking at this situation would see I’m the one at fault. Why is he acting like this?

“There’s nothing to forgive. Please, stand up.”

“Hiiik!”

I tried to gently explain it wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t the reaction I expected.

He just prostrated himself even lower… How am I supposed to handle this?

“Typical Deon…”

“Living up to his name…”

People were even whispering.

Did they think I was arrogant for a human? Suppressing the tremor in my chest, I glanced around. Everyone clammed up and avoided eye contact. They were definitely talking about me.

My reputation must be at rock bottom right now.

Well, it’s a lost cause anyway. Making it worse or recovering it won’t make much of a difference, will it?

The thought brought a sense of liberation.

With a resigned sigh, I looked down at the still prostrate cook.

“Instead of this, it would be better if you went to prepare another dish.”

I was fine, but wouldn’t the other commanders be angry? I’d heard they all had some twisted tendencies.

Especially towards those beneath them…

“Y-Yes, yes! I’ll go make another one right away!”

As if he hadn’t been kneeling moments before, the cook sprang to his feet and dashed towards the kitchen.

I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and waited for my replacement meal.

Why did I close my eyes? Because I felt like crying.

Ah, life….

The food arrived faster than expected. The delivery was even quicker.

Swiftly and efficiently delivering the dish, the cook bowed deeply at a right angle before disappearing back into the kitchen.

He moved so fast that if I hadn’t been holding the food, I might have mistaken it for a gust of wind.

Anyway, after many twists and turns, I finally got my meal and started walking.

It was hard to believe the dining hall was meant for just thirteen commanders, given its vast size and numerous seats.

A whopping thirteen rectangular tables, each seating twenty!

But considering the circumstances, it wasn’t entirely baffling.

Each commander had a strong personality, leading to frequent clashes.

The Demon King told me that when there was only one of those twenty-person tables, two commanders who’d just fought refused to sit at the same table, causing a ruckus.

Since then, even if all the commanders were at odds, there would be no issues because there were twenty-person tables equal to the number of commanders.

‘So, no one will come sit with me.’

With plenty of empty seats, why would anyone bother coming to my table?

That was the assumption that got me this far. Otherwise, no matter how much they pushed me, I’d have thrown myself on the floor and demanded they kill me instead.

Anyway, I quietly settled at the table furthest away. A spot where, unless they had business with me, no one’s gaze or footsteps would reach.

Just as I was about to finally enjoy my meal and reached for my fork…

“May I sit here?”

“…?!”

A demon approached.

Dark skin, long pointed ears that marked him as non-human, and the casual use of informal speech when everyone else addressed me with honorifics.

Recognizing all these details, I bit back a sigh that threatened to escape.

The de facto leader among the commanders. Unlike me, a mere figurehead, he was the one with real power, officially authorized to act on the Demon King’s behalf.

The 1st Corps Commander, Jaykar, stood holding a tray with his meal, requesting permission to sit beside me. Judging by the half-empty plate, he’d come over mid-meal.

Why bother coming all the way here when he could just finish his meal where he was?

I desperately wanted to refuse, but without a valid reason, I could only manage a stiff smile and a nod.

“It’s an unoccupied seat. There’s no need to ask for permission.”

That should be a neutral enough response.

“That’s true enough.”

He chuckled, placed his tray down, and pulled out the chair with a scraping sound before settling into it.

I’d hoped he wouldn’t actually sit down, but he did. What business could he possibly have with me?

My already faint appetite vanished completely. I kept forcing down the urge to sigh, merely poking at my salad when a deep, unfamiliar yet somewhat familiar voice fell from above.

“May I join you as well?”

I nearly dropped my fork. Speaking from behind? Where were his manners?

The initial shock slowly morphed into anger, but the sight of the newcomer froze me solid.

A demon with horns protruding from his temples and an absurdly muscular physique no human could ever achieve was looking down at me with an unreadable expression.

The 3rd Corps Commander, Asild. Like Jaykar, he held a half-eaten meal, his eyes fixed on me, awaiting a response.

There was only one answer I could give in this situation.

“…Yes, of course.”

Having told the 1st Corps Commander that he was free to sit, I couldn’t very well refuse the 3rd Corps Commander.

With Jaykar occupying the seat opposite me, Asild naturally sat down next to me.

Now flanked on both sides, I couldn’t find a place to rest my gaze, forcing me to stare down at my food to hide my trembling eyes. Of course, I couldn’t actually eat, so I just kept pushing the food around with my fork.

‘If I remember correctly, 3rd Corps Commander Asild was part of the Demon King’s personal guard.’

I dredged up the information I’d memorized for survival upon arriving here.

The 3rd Corps, composed of commanders and soldiers alike, all wield greatswords, crushing enemies with overwhelming power. When the Demon King needs a truly powerful force, the 3rd Corps is his go-to.

He could probably mobilize the 1st Corps, but doing so carried significant implications, so the 1st Corps was rarely deployed.

There was a reason Jaykar acted as the Demon King’s proxy.

“…”

“…”

Oh, dear. Had I been lost in thought for too long?

A sudden awkward silence prickled my skin, prompting me to cautiously raise my head.

My intention was to gauge their expressions, to see if they were displeased or angry, but unfortunately, I locked eyes directly with Jaykar, who was looking right at me.

Unable to look away, I hesitated, wondering how to react, but he seemed just as awkward. He glanced down at his plate for a moment before slowly raising his head and speaking.