Chapter 289: Intervention

‘That mouth needs to be shut,’

Deon thought.

Voices held power. The desperate cries of the perpetrator had successfully turned bystanders against the victim, planting seeds of doubt where there should have been none. Dahar must have intended this from the start.

Even though his outburst lacked any basis or logic, the fact remained that legion commanders connected to Deon had died. Suspicion clouded the eyes of the watching demons. Especially for those legion commanders who had been present when the vampire leader barged in and wagged his tongue, the suspicion deepened.

[I was hoping you would cooperate, even if only temporarily, to prevent the demon race’s extinction.]

[Because all of this has happened because of ‘one human’.]

‘He mentioned the ‘demon race’s extinction’ and tried to kill Deon Hart?’

Once could be a coincidence, but with events unfolding that echoed his past words, it was hard to simply dismiss it as chance. Could this situation, where they were urged to suspect Deon Hart, truly be coincidental?

…

They exchanged glances, subtly eyeing Deon Hart. Just as the atmosphere seemed to take a dangerous turn, the Demon King roughly grabbed Dahar by the neck and lifted him.

“Gasp!”

“Slander should be kept to a reasonable level if you want anyone to listen.”

His voice, as calm as if discussing daily matters, cut through the space.

“You stirred up this mess based on mere suspicion and now you’re appealing to emotions?”

His smooth voice, incongruously, was laced with blatant irritation and anger that anyone could discern.

His attitude was as if he were dealing with someone spouting nonsense. Perhaps because of this, the strange, tense atmosphere, which had been taut like a group under hypnosis, instantly dissipated.

Deon, who had been observing the situation, tilted his head.

‘…As expected of the Demon King.’

His perceptiveness, and his ability to manipulate the atmosphere, were top-notch.

He silenced Dahar’s rambling mouth and, at the same time, diffused the tense atmosphere directed at ‘Deon Hart’.

Even though the Demon King, who knew more than anyone and was likely closest to the truth, was shielding the culprit of everything, Deon wasn’t surprised. He was used to the Demon King protecting him, and more than anything, the situation called for it.

‘It was a situation where he had no choice but to intervene.’

And that must be why he’s so openly displeased right now.

As expected, the Demon King’s voice clearly pinpointed the reason for his displeasure.

“And even if your suspicion was near certain, you shouldn’t have acted like this; you should have reported to me first.”

Dahar’s actions were disrespectful to the Demon King. Interpreted slightly differently, it could also mean he didn’t trust the Demon King.

As if those words had struck a nerve, Dahar froze and looked at the Demon King. An unreadable expression, a mix of negative emotions—perhaps resentment, perhaps anger—met the Demon King’s cool, reverse-pupiled gaze.

He opened his mouth.

…

“Huh?”

—Guh.

But only the sound of wind escaped his lips.

Seeing his mouth only move, unable to produce a voice, the Demon King, who had been quietly watching, feigned a smile, curving his eyes.

“If you have something to say, you need to say it properly.”

While he himself was preventing Dahar from speaking by tightening his grip on his neck, he urged him to speak in a disturbingly gentle voice.

Instead of coherent words, only the sound of escaping wind struggled to emerge, and even as the Commander of the 12th Corps watched anxiously, he didn’t loosen his grip.

Because he sensed that no advantageous words would come from Dahar’s mouth.

“Really…”

…

“It’s unpleasant, I tell you.”

The Demon King understood what this situation implied.

There was no way Dahar, with his excellent social skills, wouldn’t have considered ‘reporting to the Demon King’ as an option. Yet, his acting unilaterally like this meant that the Demon King was also a target of suspicion.

The suspicion, with its own reasoning, that perhaps the Demon King was also in league with the suspicious Deon Hart, seeing as he kept shielding him.

‘And now, with this guy’s actions, other perceptive legion commanders will also start to suspect.’

Though he stopped Dahar from speaking, Dahar’s actions themselves had already become sufficient clues.

Sure enough, a quick glance around revealed cracks in Idelia and Develania’s expressions. Through those cracks, a glimpse of ‘Could it be…?’ mixed with ‘I hope not’ made him let out a hollow laugh involuntarily.

‘This situation was unexpected.’

For a demon to suspect a human, a Hero, was one thing; to suspect the Demon King was on a different level entirely.

To put it in terms demons could understand, it was akin to suspecting a god. From the Demon King’s perspective, it was like witnessing insects that had been eating the crumbs he dropped suddenly questioning the source of the snacks.

‘When they were happily accepting my shallow mercy and favor, they were fine, but now…’

Is this snack really safe to eat? What is the other party’s intention in just giving it to us? And so on.

Though it was still just a small seed of doubt, if amplified, it was the beginning of questioning whether what they had simply praised as a god was truly a god, and even if it was, whether that god was truly on their side. The Demon King wore a subtle expression.

‘All progress comes from questioning and doubt… but isn’t it too late?’

Annoying.

Of course, the demons had been stagnant for too long. This had accelerated the Demon King’s boredom and repeatedly led to extreme outcomes, so an event of questioning and overturning things should have happened at least once, but…

That’s only if the timing is right.

‘If Deon hadn’t been here, he might have found it interesting.’

Ah, if Deon hadn’t been here, perhaps this whole thing wouldn’t have even happened.

What a shame.

‘If things go well, a three-way battle might break out.’

Briefly wearing an intrigued yet regretful look as he imagined the chaotic battle that would unfold in the Demon Realm in the near future, the Demon King turned his head to manage the situation.

His gaze, intending to quickly wrap things up, met the eyes of those gathered around, and then settled on Deon. Befitting eyes that seemed to demand an answer, words that took the form of a question, but weren’t really questions, tumbled out.

“Anyway, it’s confirmed that Myers didn’t know, right?”

…Yes.

The surrounding demons nodded, and Deon also slowly affirmed. It was a question that left no room for choice.

Dragging Myers into this was risky, especially given Dahar’s earlier remarks, and too many had witnessed the guy’s flustered appearance, clearly showing he was clueless. Plus, he was feeling a bit… tired right now.

‘As long as Dahar is dealt with properly.’

There was no need to push things unnecessarily in this setting, so he was about to calmly observe how the Demon King would proceed, when the Demon King, still holding Dahar by the neck, turned to him.

“The victim should decide what to do with this guy.”

…

“What should we do?”

His reverse-pupiled eyes curved into a sly smile.

“Shall we kill him?”

Deon paused, the situation reminding him of a past event from quite some time ago.

But that was only for a moment. He glanced back at Myers, who was desperately looking at him with trembling eyes, then turned his gaze back to Dahar and uttered an answer completely different from the past.

“Yes.”

…

“I think killing him would be best.”

It was a voice chillingly calm.

As if it were a slightly unexpected answer, the Demon King paused and stared at Deon. Meeting his unwavering red eyes, he then chuckled.

“Alright.”

Crunch-.

Immediate action followed. The demons flinched, their shoulders twitching at the instantaneous event. Deon, who was also momentarily wide-eyed like them, as if he hadn’t expected such immediate action, soon closed his eyes.

Against the backdrop of a world shrouded in darkness, the large ripple of blood was vividly visible.

…

The situation was roughly settled, and the banquet resumed in a slightly stiff atmosphere.

As if worried that something else might happen, the Demon King didn’t leave his seat and remained on the dais. Deon, noticing that his sleeve, propping up his chin, was clearly empty, subtly glanced around at the surrounding legion commanders.

No one reacted.

Even considering the somewhat stiff atmosphere due to the lingering aftermath of the previous incident, their gazes and attitudes towards the Demon King didn’t seem to deviate much from usual.

‘Does that mean… he changed the tool for concealing magic power in the meantime, or it wasn’t a cuff button in the first place?’

Anyway… that aside…

‘I wish they’d stop staring.’

At this rate, I’ll be bored through.

Using his perfectly recovered body as an excuse to remain in the banquet hall and continue his thoughts, Deon couldn’t ignore the intense gazes directed at him any longer and turned his head.

Ed, hovering nearby, unable to quite approach, Lirinel, boldly approaching, and Dan, watching from afar with cards in hand, came into view. Ah, Ben, too, was right beside him, watching as if on guard.

“I’m really okay, I’m telling you.”

…Is that so.

Really.

“There’s no reaction from the mana stone, and it does seem like you’ve really recovered, but…”

Ben sent a look of disbelief, but Deon pretended not to notice and gestured dismissively at those who seemed about to approach, indicating that he was fine and they shouldn’t come closer. Ed froze in place, and Lirinel, who had been approaching, paused, then turned away dejectedly. Dan… he didn’t know. He wasn’t even looking at him.

‘Since everyone is keeping a respectful distance, reading the atmosphere, they probably won’t come even if I don’t give a specific signal.’

Dan will handle things on his own.

Without even glancing at Dan, Deon briefly met Ed’s eyes, filled with unease and self-reproach, then looked away, pretending not to have seen him, and started walking. His destination was Legion Commander Myers, who had just lost his adjutant right before his eyes.

He called out the name of the demon who was standing blankly, seemingly in shock or disbelief.

“Myers.”

He reflexively turned around. Soon, his eyes wavered greatly as he recognized that the person was Deon.

Deon quietly observed him, as if gauging the emotions in his eyes, then abruptly asked.

“Do you resent me?”

Though the words were short, there was no way he wouldn’t understand their meaning.

…No.

Myers immediately shook his head.

“Dahar is the one who sinned. Sir Deon, you were harmed because of him, how could I dare…”

…Reason and emotion are separate. It’s okay to be honest.

“I really… don’t resent you. I’m not qualified to.”

What qualification does one need to feel emotions?

But Deon didn’t bother to press or delve further. He just…

…A little unexpected.

He was inwardly impressed. It seemed that true nature only revealed itself when pushed to the extreme.

The reactions of those who have lost their support usually fall into two categories: collapsing completely, or becoming hardened enough to stand on their own.

It seemed Myers was the latter. Was it because a legion commander is a legion commander? Even without his adjutant, or perhaps precisely because of it, his voice was even calmer.

“It’s only natural.”

…

But the emotions visible in his eyes were too clear to take those words at face value.

Suddenly, words he had said in the past came to mind. Madness is born from extreme sorrow, or so he had said. Of course, this wasn’t quite ‘madness’, but…

‘…Were my eyes back then also like this?’

It was the first time Deon had realized that eyes filled with sorrow could look so menacing.

Silence settled in the secluded corner of the banquet hall, a space cut off from the rest, unusually quiet because no one else approached them.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable or suffocating silence. Therefore, the silence, which had continued unbroken, was broken when Myers, who had been subtly watching Deon’s reaction, opened his mouth.

“I don’t know why Dahar did that.”

…

“But… I think there must have been some big misunderstanding.”

Words that could only be said now that the other party was dead finally came out belatedly.

‘…He’s definitely not just saying it’s purely the adjutant’s fault.’

Deon tilted his head, cocking it slightly.

He seemed to have deep trust in his adjutant, but these weren’t words to be said in front of me. Reinterpreting it, it meant there must have been some reason, but did he say this knowing that, or was he just speaking thoughtlessly?

“Misunderstanding?”

…Yes.

If not a misunderstanding, then the truth. Myers’ eyes sank deeply.