Category: The Virus King

29: The Rabbit on the Ramparts

An explosion echoed through the air.

The transparent wall before me absorbed the fireball, withstanding the blast. While the sound was muffled, the energy of the explosion wasn’t completely blocked.

Lightning and blizzards were similarly repelled by the transparent wall.

[Fireball].

[Lightning].

[Blizzard].

There were countless offensive spells in this world, but knowing these three was sufficient.

Even high-level mages usually opted to increase the power of these spells by channeling more mana, or simply casting them again.

Being able to use them appropriately in different situations was the mark of a competent mage. Even without that level of skill, being able to cast even one of these spells was like having a cannon.

In a world embroiled in a war of extinction, such individuals were highly sought after, practically guaranteed a comfortable life. A true example of having a valuable skill. Though that life was often short-lived.

[Fireball] and [Lightning] were favored for their stability. [Fireball], in particular, was renowned for its wide area of effect due to the explosion, making it the quintessential offensive spell.

And countering these spells was defensive magic.

Defenders deployed transparent barriers.

[Shield].

There were countless defensive spells in this world, but knowing this one was sufficient.

There were many variations, such as elemental resistance or reflective shields. But ultimately, this simple spell, whose creator was unknown, remained the pinnacle of reliable defensive magic.

Mages who could cast this spell were also incredibly valuable.

In a world embroiled in a war of extinction (etc.). Their lives were often short-lived (etc.).

Large-scale wars in this world were determined by the number of mages each side could muster.

The basic strategy was to weaken the enemy forces with offensive magic while simultaneously blocking their attacks with defensive magic. Then, warriors enhanced with physical augmentation magic would engage in close combat.

Of course, other units, like spearmen and archers, who could contribute through sheer numbers, were also important. But without defensive magic, tightly packed formations of spearmen or archers were simply targets for offensive spells.

So, they dispersed, charged, and engaged in melee combat. The outcome then depended on individual skill.

Even a horde of low-level soldiers with basic physical augmentation magic was no match for a hero-class warrior.

Therefore, offensive magic that could eliminate them before they got close was valuable, and defensive magic that could protect against it was equally valuable.

And even heroes got tired. Their skin wasn’t steel. Surrounded by enough low-level soldiers, even a hero could fall.

The fundamentals were the same, even in another world. Deploy more soldiers than the enemy. That was war.

Training personnel was expensive. This was true in any field, but few activities were as wasteful of human life as war. While they would surely prefer to keep their soldiers alive, the harsh realities of the battlefield often made that impossible.

That was why the humans did the right thing.

They used people like me, humans from another world who had no stake in this conflict, as fuel tanks, to conserve the precious mana of their mages.

Even I, now known as the Virus King, found the idea chilling.

That was why I was supposed to die on those ramparts.

No one to help me.

No cheat abilities.

No combat skills.

Not even free will.

“Rookie, get a grip!”

“Y-yes, Captain!”

Before me, a young ‘rookie’ was being encouraged by a middle-aged ‘captain.’ They wore grey hooded robes, so their voices were my only clues, but I didn’t care.

“Don’t worry about your mana this time. We still have replacements.”

Another person before me was used up, their mana drained to its limit, coughing up blood, then ‘disposed of’ efficiently. Thrown into the moat beyond the ramparts.

“Listen, I’ve told you this many times. Focus your mind. Everyone has mana. In the end, it’s all about willpower.”

It was a tired, outdated pep talk, but on the battlefield, it wasn’t a laughing matter.

Soldiers without willpower died.

Soldiers with willpower but no skill were even worse, but only mages were allowed to wear hooded robes here. They were the elite, promised a comfortable life if they survived.

Unlike me, who was about to be discarded.

“Here they come!”

“Yes!”

The two seemed to be in charge of defensive magic. Magic was still subject to the laws of physics. Offensive spells cast from a distance were slow enough to follow with the eye.

Offensive spells flew towards us, and the [Shield] intercepted them. The faintly glowing wall shimmered with rainbow hues upon impact, groaning under the strain. Occasionally, a fireball or lightning bolt would slip through a gap in the barrier, burning or freezing someone to pieces. Sometimes, the spells struck the ramparts, sending unsettling tremors through the ground.

But overall, the humans had the advantage. They were defending a fortress, and they had ‘mana batteries.’ The barriers were strong, and they had the resources to recast them. Their offensive magic didn’t falter from fatigue.

The person in front of me was used up, about to be discarded.

“Give me a hand.”

“…Yes.”

It was a young man, about my age. Unlike the one before him, who’d been thrown over quickly, this one had collapsed, making it more difficult to ‘dispose of’ him.

Two mages in hooded robes crouched down, grabbed his arms and legs, and, with a slight swing, tossed him over the ramparts like a sack of potatoes.

Seeing that, anger surged within me.

Is that how you do it?

Don’t do that.

Is that how you treat human beings?

—No.

Is that how you treat us, because you don’t see us as human?

Then I would do the same. Everyone had mana.

Focus your mind.

In the end, it’s all about willpower.

I repeated those words, the kind words meant for the ‘rookie,’ for the ‘human,’ not for me.

My vision cleared.

My dulled senses returned, and I felt the biting cold. Hunger. Fatigue. All of it was consumed by a boiling rage.

I shoved the two who’d thrown the man over the ramparts, sending them tumbling after him.

Amidst the explosions of offensive magic, their screams echoed clearly, unpleasantly, in my ears. The sickening thud of their bodies hitting the ground, their final cries.

I’m a murderer now.

Because I was different from them.

Because I saw those I’d pushed as human beings.

Because I knew that what I’d done was kill human beings.

And yet, I couldn’t forgive them.

Because I wanted to live. Because if I were to die, I wanted to die as a human.

A strange urge to laugh welled up within me. Standing on the ramparts of that fortress in the wilderness, breathing in the stench of blood and smoke, I looked up at the overcast sky, ignoring the black-armored knights swarming around me.

I am here.

I am free.

A world where no one knew me.

Where I was alone, not even knowing my own name.

Where I didn’t know who I was.

But the one who resisted the mind magic.

The one who chose to fight against this injustice, even if it meant killing.

That, I felt, was me.

I pushed two more mages off the ramparts, seizing the opportunity as they were about to throw another ‘human’ over like a sack of grain.

Then I was restrained. Or rather, beaten and dragged to the ground. Someone shouted,

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Why?

Why are you saying that?

Why are you saying that?!

Along with the rage, a cold, unyielding certainty formed within me.

Yes, those people were human. And to them, I was not.

Our logic was different.

My words wouldn’t reach them.

It was an insurmountable divide.

“Fufu… haha… fufufu…”

I laughed, a sound that seemed to come from deep within my throat.

It was so absurd, this world where words held no power. So tragic, this world where everything I’d been taught to value was useless.

But my actions had a small impact.

Two pairs of defensive mages were gone.

And another pair was busy restraining me.

The barrier protecting against the incoming offensive magic, weakened by the gaps in the defense, was fragile.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the air.

The shimmering wall that had withstood fire, lightning, and blizzards cracked, the fragments dissolving into shimmering dust as they fell.

It’s like the fireworks I saw with my family.

We’d arrived early to get a good spot—a little too close, perhaps. The fireworks were beautiful, but the sound was loud, and the smell of gunpowder was strong. My younger sister, still a child, had started to cry. I’d picked her up, patted her back, and stroked her dark hair, the same color as mine… my hands still remembered the feeling.

A ball of fire flew towards us, as if to brush away the shimmering dust.

“Beautiful…”

It slammed into the ramparts, incinerating everything in its path. The barrier shattered, and the ramparts were engulfed in flames.

I, too, was caught in the blast, observing the scene with detached amusement, lost in a whirlwind of memories, like a life flashing before my eyes. Then, darkness.

But I had been on the ground, pinned down.

That was why I was still alive.

28: What Was Called the Siege of Fort Garnalk

For the past three days, Liz and I had been sharing a bed.

If this were a more… titillating story, I’d be happy, but that wasn’t the case.

The night we returned from the Beastman Army encampment, I’d invited her to sleep with me, and while she’d said, “Just sleeping together, okay?” she’d readily accepted. I hope this means my favorability rating has gone up.

Tonight, too, we climbed into bed after turning off the lights.

“This feels… nostalgic.”

“What does?” I could sense Liz turning to look at me.

“Almost being assassinated constantly.”

“…I don’t think that’s something you should feel nostalgic about.”

Liz was right. But I wasn’t wrong either.

“All past memories are nostalgic. Besides, every time I was almost assassinated, you always protected me.”

“Ehehe…” Even in the near-darkness, I could tell Liz was smiling.

I reached out and found her hand. She grasped it, intertwining our fingers.

“…But Master, I was really scared this time.”

“You were? Why?”

“…I thought I was going to lose you.”

“…It’s okay. I always think I might be killed… but I don’t want to die.”

I had reasons to be killed. Probably plenty of justifiable reasons.

“I’ll survive, using everything I have as the Virus King.”

But none of those reasons were enough to make me accept death passively.

“…Please do.”

“By the way, was that a confession?”

She let go of my hand. Slap.

“Don’t be ridiculous. And we’re both women, remember?”

“I remember.”

“Then stop joking around.”

“I’m not joking. —Not since I came to this world.”

I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I could sense Liz’s exasperation. Since Liz, being a dark elf, could see my expression even in this darkness, I put on my most serious face.

“That statement itself is a jo—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

“Something wrong?”

“…I’ve been wondering… how much you actually know…”

“About?”

“About what happened when you first came to this world.”

“…What do you mean? You know pretty much everything, don’t you?”

“There’s a period I don’t know about.”

A period Liz didn’t know about.

“…Was there?”

I was the Virus King, Lord of Disease.

The name I used was given to me by Liz.

The clothes I wore were made by Liz.

Liz was always beside me as I performed my duties as a supreme commander.

“I’m talking about the time between you arriving in this world… and meeting me.”

“I think I told you.”

“You were joking, weren’t you?”

I didn’t remember joking. But I did remember omitting and embellishing certain details.

“What do you know?”

“That you made significant contributions during the siege of Fort Garnalk. That earned you an audience with His Majesty the Demon King, and your proposal at that meeting led to your appointment… and later, you were given the name Virus King, and the position of supreme commander.”

That was my official profile. Liz knew everything she needed to know.

“What about the contents of that audience?”

“I don’t know. As you know, I was in charge of your surveillance and protection until the audience… but during the audience itself, His Majesty’s personal guards took over.”

Hmm.

Now that she mentioned it, I didn’t think I’d ever seriously discussed what I’d done when I first arrived in this world with Liz.

Partly because I didn’t want to remember.

But as I’d told her earlier, it was all in the past. Even though it had only been a little over a year, it felt nostalgic now.

“…Master, what did you do at Fort Garnalk?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I don’t mind. …I want to hear it from you.”

Liz’s voice was earnest. Hearing that voice in the darkness, I wanted to tell her.

“Okay. Let’s see… where should I begin…”

I thought back to the day I first arrived in this world, the memories tinged with nostalgia.

I turned on the bedside lamp, dimming it slightly, since we wouldn’t be sleeping for a while. While magic lamps were common, this one was a luxury item, with its ornate lampshade, dimming function, and soft, even glow. A future I couldn’t have imagined was now my reality.

I looked at Liz, her eyes fixed on me, then shifted my gaze to the canopy above.

“—I was on the ramparts.”

I was there, on that battlefield. The only siege in the nation’s history where the demons were on the offensive.

The Siege of Fort Garnalk.

A large fortress near the border, built with the combined forces of the three great human nations: Rank Kingdom, the Empire, and the Holy Kingdom.

It was a dagger pointed at the throat of the Listrea Demon Kingdom.

A fortress constructed in secrecy, using illusion magic, appearing overnight as far as the demons were concerned. It had to be captured.

We couldn’t allow such a fortress, a potential bridgehead for an invasion of our homeland, to remain.

But the reason the demons had successfully defended their borders for four hundred years was that they’d been fighting defensive battles. And the humans had decided to do the same.

If the demons attacked, they would repel them and inflict heavy casualties.

If the demons did nothing, they would simply use the fortress as a staging ground for an invasion of the Listrea Demon Kingdom.

It was a ‘brilliant strategy,’ killing multiple birds with one stone. It allowed the humans to deal with the warmongering factions while weakening their own armies, which were a drain on resources even in peacetime.

Even victory wouldn’t feel like a victory.

And yet, if we left the threat unaddressed, we wouldn’t even be able to defend our borders.

The Listrea Demon Kingdom selected its most suitable forces for a siege. They decided to attack Fort Garnalk with a combined force of demons from the Fifth Army and dark knights from the Second Army.

The commander was Bringit Finis, the Blood Knight, leader of the Second Army, the dark knights, and a supreme commander of the Listrea Demon Kingdom.

And I was summoned there.

I wasn’t summoned by the Listrea Demon Kingdom—not by the demons.

I was summoned by fellow humans.

Even now, I didn’t know why I was summoned. Anyone would have sufficed.

Because the humans who summoned me didn’t care about precision.

Their objective was to use humans as ‘mana batteries,’ as fuel tanks for offensive and defensive magic.

Anyone with a reasonable amount of magical power would do. Anyone but themselves.

I wasn’t the only one summoned to this world. There were many others.

I learned this later, but it wasn’t a rogue operation. It was an officially sanctioned strategy, approved by the Human Alliance Against Demons.

To win, with minimal losses.

I didn’t even know who they were fighting.

I was simply pulled into a magic circle, still in my business suit, on my way home from work. Subjected to mind magic, bound, and fed nothing but thin soup.

But thanks to the mind magic, my memories were hazy. Perhaps that was a blessing. Or perhaps it was a defense mechanism.

The summoning ritual was… crude. Now that I understood magic, I could see it. A ‘summoning spell’ without a specific target… it was a miracle it hadn’t failed.

Well, it hadn’t ‘failed.’

There were two main types of summoning failures. When the summoning circle went haywire, causing damage, including the death of the caster. And when it summoned something other than the intended target.

So, it hadn’t failed in the latter sense.

There was no intended target. Any human would do. Or perhaps, not even a human. Anything with magical power.

Anything they could drain of its magical energy.

It was like casting a net indiscriminately, catching any fish, a practice frowned upon from a conservation standpoint. It was beyond indiscriminate.

Something that should never have been done to a human being, if you applied even a shred of ‘human rights’ or ‘ethics.’ And yet, they did it.

Summoning magic was still in its developmental stages.

The spell used to summon me was flawed. Aside from knowing it was supposed to summon a human, they didn’t even know where it was summoning from.

But at least, it wasn’t from their own nation. Nor was it from an allied nation.

Therefore, they went through with it.

Being summoned was incredibly taxing. Memories became jumbled, consciousness blurred. No one subjected to mind magic in that state could resist.

And if they viewed humans as mana batteries, they could compensate for their inferior magical power compared to demons with sheer numbers.

That was why I was on the ramparts.

That day, under a cold, overcast sky. Dressed in nothing but ragged, poorly made white cloth, crudely stitched together, barely qualifying as clothing… stripped of my dignity as a human being.

Dragged to the ramparts, along with dozens, hundreds of others.

27. The Road Back from the Beastman Army

We rode in silence for a while on the carriage ride back. Once we were a reasonable distance from the Beastman Army encampment, I let out a long sigh.

“—Well, I never. To think I’d almost be killed so directly by our own allies. The Beastman Army is quite… passionate.”

“Indeed… I didn’t expect it to be such a blatant trap. I’m glad Lathus-sama was reasonable.”

“If a supreme commander had been clearly involved in the attempted assassination of another supreme commander… it would have been civil war, no doubt.”

“Exactly. It’s too dangerous. This can’t go down in history…”

“Was there anything about the Virus King, Lord of Disease’s work that could go down in history?”

“There are records at the royal castle, to a certain extent. Though I doubt any historian would want to see them.”

“I hope there are some.”

I truly did.

I hoped these people would be the ones to write history.

“…Now, Master, I have a lot to say.”

Her tone was unusually serious. Undeniably the tone she used for lectures. I straightened my back involuntarily.

“First, I’m glad the persuasion was successful! But don’t you think you’re replaceable?!”

“Am I not?”

“You are not!” Liz shouted, then lowered her gaze.

“…Even I, an assassin. Even I, who’s trained to kill without emotion, find it terrifying.”

She continued in a low voice, “Not one or two. Not ten or twenty. Not even a hundred or a thousand…”

A hint of fear flickered in her words.

“To be ordered to kill… that many… non-combatants… as efficiently and effectively as possible… it’s… chilling.”

“Liz.”

But when she looked up, meeting my gaze, there was no revulsion in her eyes.

“—And yet. We believe in you. In you, who revealed your true face, declared yourself human, and still vowed to exterminate humanity for the sake of this nation.”

The fear had vanished from her voice.

“We believe in you, who considers the well-being of your subordinates, prioritizes their safety, and shows ruthlessness only towards the enemy.”

Liz’s words brought a smile to my face. If she truly felt that way, then my choice of this title had meaning.

“It’s not just the assassination squad. The disinformation unit feels the same. …Doppelgangers aren’t a high-status race in this nation. They’re a rare, exceptional race that doesn’t inherit the traits of their parents. They’re magically weaker, physically weaker. Some even call them an inferior race behind their backs. And the wraiths and skeletons who make up the core of the assassination squad are undead, often denied basic rights…”

“Let those fools talk. I have complete faith in my doppelganger subordinates. We can’t win this war without the disinformation unit, composed of doppelgangers, and the assassination squad, primarily made up of undead.”

Those were the two forces I’d requested from His Majesty.

A disinformation unit of doppelgangers.

An assassination squad centered around undead.

Only accurate information could alleviate fear.

Only the certainty of safety could guarantee rational thought.

When my two forces worked in tandem, fear became boundless, and safety became a mere fantasy.

“…There is no other commander in this nation who would speak with such conviction and offer such kind words… no one who could replace you.”

“…His Majesty. Someone will inherit my will.”

“No one can truly inherit the work of the Virus King. …Besides, no one wants this job.”

“Well, it is a grim job.”

I nodded in agreement. I wouldn’t want it either. Most people would probably say the same.

“But I believe. We will win. Even if I die, someone will inherit the name of the Virus King.”

“…Why do you believe that?”

“Because of you.”

I reached out and gently stroked Liz’s hair.

“My cute subordinates. You, who understand and execute my work better than I do, are the Virus King.”

This name was just an illusion.

A symbol of the fear instilled in humanity, a name to conceal the simple fact that I had subordinates, and they were the true threat.

“I’m counting on you, Liz.” I slid my hand down from her hair and gently cupped her cheek.

“…Don’t count on me.” Liz grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away.

“Just try to live a long life!”

“…Right.” I nodded.

“Samarkand, I’m sorry you had to worry, too.”

I addressed Samarkand, who was on the driver’s platform.

“…Yes. I was concerned.”

“By the way, what happens with the blood contract? If I die, do you… die too…?”

“Not at all. The master simply has absolute command over the servant. Additionally, the servant is obligated to ensure the master’s safety. …Therefore, this incident caused me… considerable distress.”

“Ah… sorry about that.”

“No. If we had fought, thirty of those beastmen would have died. …And the three of us would have undoubtedly been among them. But now, we are all alive. You did the right thing, my master.”

“I’m glad you think so, Samarkand.”

It had felt like walking a tightrope, but I was glad we’d made it across.

“But why did you form a blood contract in the first place? It sounds like a curse.”

“Yes, it is a type of curse.”

“Huh?”

“As long as blood flows through my veins, I cannot escape its control. There are some benefits, such as enhanced physical abilities, due to the price paid… but it is undoubtedly a curse.”

“Then why…?”

“A mere whim.”

“…Really?”

“Yes. I wished for you to be my master. And I wished to entrust my everything to you, in a way that was visible to all. …A mere whim, my esteemed master.”

“…I see.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Happy, embarrassed, very embarrassed…

“I would gladly die for my master. For I have learned of something heavier than death.”

“Don’t think you’ll find happiness in death.”

“What do you mean?”

“Life is more enjoyable.”

This black goat was a greater demon. Different from a human. But he had been born into this world, and that was undeniable. It had to be.

“It would be better if you served me for a long time, right?”

So, I felt like indulging in a slightly embarrassing line.

“Such kind words…” He trailed off. Please don’t tell me he’s crying again.

“Besides, I’ve decided to live as interesting a life as possible in this world. As my subordinate, you should follow your superior’s example.”

“Master, this is the first time I’m hearing of this policy.” Liz, who had been silent, spoke up.

“Is that so? —Then remember this. That is the guiding principle of the Virus King.”

“Do you think you can fool me with a serious tone?”

“Actually, yes.”

“I will agree with anything my master says.”

The fact that Samarkand was completely serious was a little problematic. I was tempted to give him a ridiculous order, just to see what he would do.

Well, I’d save that for another time.

“Not to be morbid, but if anything happens to me, I’m counting on you to take care of Liz and the others.”

“…Yes. But please, take care of yourself.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Could you try a little harder?” Liz gave me a pointed look.

“But see? I worked hard today, just with my words.”

“That’s not how you phrase it… You should say you dedicated yourself wholeheartedly to your duties.”

I leaned back against the seat and rested my chin on the back of my hand, gazing at the forest outside the window.

“I can’t help but feel that’s also a poor choice of words…”

26: A Perfect Answer

“I will never approve of your methods.”

Lathus glared at me, his gaze sharp enough to kill.

“Do you have no warrior’s pride?”

I almost flinched, but I was used to such glares.

“I wasn’t appointed a supreme commander for my combat skills.”

“Then why do you hold that position? Why has His Majesty favored you so much, even establishing the Sixth Army, which hasn’t existed for four hundred years?”

“Oh… even after hearing of my accomplishments, you still don’t understand?”

“What?!”

“—I just recently neutralized the Dragon Knights, practically without losses.”

“…!”

“No one else could have done that, except for me and my subordinates. Isn’t that enough?”

“What do you think of your own methods…?”

“You mean, my ‘ruthless tactics’?”

“…………”

“What? Do you disagree? Or did you think I would try to rephrase it, to obfuscate the truth?”

“…Yes.”

“I am fighting to win this war. …What about you?”

“Of course I’m fighting to win!” Lathus raised his voice.

“How do we win? How do we end this war?” I asked calmly.

“By annihilating every last enemy.”

Lathus’s answer was immediate, without hesitation.

“We kill every enemy knight, soldier, and mage. And someday, we’ll tear out the throats of the enemy nation, slaughtering their royalty and nobility. Those leaders responsible for this war.”

“Thirty points.” I couldn’t help but be harsh in my assessment.

“…Tell me the perfect answer.”

“The extinction of humanity.”

“…What?” Lathus gaped at me, blinking in surprise.

His reaction amused me, and I smiled.

“We kill all the ‘enemies.’ But that doesn’t just mean knights, soldiers, and mages. I make no distinctions. We don’t just eliminate the military; we don’t just hold the kings and nobles accountable. We eliminate everyone. Men, women, children, regardless of age or social standing, we kill all ‘humans.’”

True equality probably didn’t exist in this world. But if it did, it would be the grim reality I’d just described.

“…You’re… human, aren’t you…?”

“His Majesty appointed me a supreme commander knowing that. That is all that matters.”

“!”

“This nation cannot afford to be lenient. There is no ‘honorable’ path to victory in this war. Humans vastly outnumber us; their territory is larger, their resources far greater. That is who we are fighting.”

Magic existed in this world.

Therefore—it was no different from my world.

Gathering mages.

Training mages.

Providing for mages.

Assembling armies to support mages.

All of it required resources.

“If we fight now, we will lose.”

“Are you saying we’re weak?!”

“No. You’re too righteous.”

If they were weak.

If they were foolish.

This war wouldn’t have dragged on for so long. They were strong, righteous… and probably kind.

They couldn’t fully comprehend human malice.

“Even now, you still believe there’s a ‘right’ way to wage war. That there’s such a thing as ‘honor’ on the battlefield. That there’s ‘pride’ in killing.”

“Without those, it’s hell…!”

“That’s why I thought we were already standing at the edge of hell.”

The Japanese proverb, “A single step forward is darkness,” came to mind. This was twilight for the demons. Not immediately, but eventually, the sun would set. And if things continued as they were, it would never rise again.

“Many will die. …Many who aren’t warriors will die.”

If only war was limited to those willing to fight.

“If we lose, that’s what will happen.”

But such a war didn’t exist, not even in this world where warrior’s pride and chivalry were spoken of with utmost sincerity.

“I… know. I know a world without humanity. I know an era when humans slaughtered each other.”

It had been mere knowledge. And in this world, it had become reality.

“We cannot afford to lose. That’s why I chose this method.”

I couldn’t command armies with the genius of a military strategist. I didn’t possess the technological prowess to revolutionize warfare.

But I could do this. I could imitate a fraction of the malice humanity had cultivated over millennia and unleash it upon this world.

That was what they called the Virus King.

“…Lower your weapons.”

Lathus gestured to the surrounding beastmen, who were still armed.

“Lathus!”

“If you have any objections, direct them at me.”

“Lathus…”

The weapons were lowered. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“—Don’t misunderstand.”

Lathus grabbed the amulet at my chest and pulled me closer. He was at least two heads taller than me, so he had to bend down to bring his face close to mine, almost nose to nose.

I waved dismissively at Liz and Samarkand, who had tensed, ready to intervene.

“I don’t approve of you. I believe in ‘honorable’ warfare. I believe that only by fighting with ‘honor’ and ‘pride’ can we justify killing. —That is a warrior’s logic.”

His golden, wolf-like eyes.

Beautiful, proud eyes.

If someone with such eyes said that, then surely, there was something called pride within their hearts.

“…Yes, I know. So, do that.” I nodded slightly.

I wouldn’t deny their pride.

But it would be foolish to expect the same from the enemy.

“One person is enough. One person to fight this dirty war, one ‘human’ to issue these ruthless orders.”

“You…?” Lathus narrowed his eyes, suspicion in his gaze.

“I’ll excuse myself before I change my mind. I won’t mention this incident publicly. Let’s just say I visited, and we had a productive discussion.”

“…Very well.” Lathus released my amulet.

“Liz, Samarkand. Let’s go.” I called out to them and turned my back on Lathus and his men.

“One last question.” His voice followed me.

“—What did you do at Fort Garnalk?”

I stopped and turned back.

“No one knows the specifics. And yet, both His Majesty and that Bringit lass say the same thing! ‘It was the Virus King’s accomplishment!’”

“The fact that you haven’t been told is all that matters.” I replied curtly.

“I don’t know the specifics of what my fellow supreme commanders do. We each have our own domains. Often, it’s enough that His Majesty knows.”

The siege of Fort Garnalk.

It was always the first thing mentioned when discussing the Virus King’s history. I had ‘participated’ in that siege… and based on my accomplishments there, I’d been appointed a supreme commander.

At least, that was the official story.

Lathus gritted his teeth, exhaling sharply. He repeated the action several times, trying to calm himself, but his suppressed emotions burst forth.

“Which unit were you in?! I’ve never heard of a human in the Demon King’s army… or even in this nation. Were you really there? If you were, what did you do?”

“…Some things cannot be spoken of.”

There were no lies in my history. That much was certain.

But just as my species was officially undisclosed, not everything was revealed. That, too, was certain.

“However, as a courtesy, I’ll tell you one thing.”

To Lathus. To a fellow supreme commander… but to someone I couldn’t reveal the specifics, I chose my words carefully.

“I was there. …And that is where the Virus King was born.”

The beginning of me in this world. A dark memory, but a precious one.

“…That is all.”

I turned my back on him once again. Lathus didn’t speak, and I didn’t look back.

25: Rage in Their Eyes

Lathus and I stood facing each other, a few paces apart.

“Lathus, I’ve come at your invitation, but—”

“…Wait.” Lathus raised a hand, cutting me off.

“Invitation? —You mean, for the Virus King?” He glared at the beastmen surrounding us with his wolf-like eyes.

Some lowered their tails, others flattened their ears. And none met his gaze.

I understood.

This is a rogue operation.

“I received an invitation through the royal castle… but it seems there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”

“…You lot. Did you use my name without my permission?”

Quiet rage filled the air. Even I, not the target of his anger, felt a prickling sensation on my skin.

“L-Lathus-sama, this is…” The beastman with reddish-brown hair and ears, whose brother had been my subordinate, stammered.

“Answer with ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”

“…Yes.”

“…Hah…” Lathus scratched his head.

“Don’t do it again.”

“Yes…” He turned to me.

“…My apologies. It seems my subordinates have caused you some trouble.”

“No… ‘nothing happened.’ Right? I ‘came at your invitation.’ That is all.”

“…That’s for the best.”

Lathus nodded grudgingly. He might not appreciate word games, but he was magnanimous enough to let it slide.

“Now that I’m here—”

“…I won’t accept this!”

The woman with reddish-brown hair pointed her sword at me again.

“Remove your mask! And… duel me!”

I sighed inwardly.

“Liz.”

“…Go ahead. Lathus-sama already knows… and they have a right to know as well. If they truly consider themselves our ‘allies.’”

Liz understood perfectly what I wanted to say.

I removed my mask.

The air around us shifted. Murmurs of unease rippled through the crowd.

“As you can see, I’ve removed my mask. However, I cannot accept your duel.”

With the mask removed, my voice returned to its normal tone, no longer the deep, distorted resonance.

The unease intensified as they heard my voice and saw my face.

“A woman…?” Lathus frowned.

“Oh, I thought you knew… did you not know my gender?”

“No…”

“Then allow me to introduce myself. —I am the Virus King, Lord of Disease. A human, and, like you, a supreme commander of the Demon King’s army.”

“Don’t change the subject! I will fight you and avenge my brother!”

“Aithys. I must refuse your duel.”

“…My… name? How…?” Aithys’s eyes widened.

“He—Eithys—was my subordinate. I read my subordinates’ files. …Especially those of the fallen.”

A similar name, the same birth year—meaning her twin brother had served in my army. That was all the information the files contained. And yet, I’d committed it to memory.

“Why… did you kill my brother…?”

“Don’t misunderstand. The ones who killed him were the Dragon Knights, Rank Kingdom’s elite forces. …That is the truth.”

“But he died in such a dishonorable, dangerous operation! What about his pride?! What about his honor?!”

It was as if oil had been poured on the simmering anger in my chest.

“He died following my orders. It’s understandable that you resent me. But even you, his sister, have no right to insult him.”

“What?!”

“Your brother did nothing to dishonor himself… he never disobeyed orders.”

I spoke coldly, my words laced with anger.

“I don’t know if he resented me. But even if he did, he followed my orders to the very end, carrying out his mission. I am proud to have had such a subordinate.”

I gripped my staff tightly, my knuckles white, to maintain a semblance of composure.

“He was my subordinate. And I did what I had to do. Using the information gained from their deaths, I erased those Dragon Knights from this world.”

“Gasp…”

The tip of the sword pointed at me trembled.

“Could you have done the same? —I didn’t let anyone else die. Could the proud and valiant Beastman Army have annihilated over one hundred Dragon Knights with minimal casualties?”

“Th-that… that’s…”

Her hand, still gripping the sword, was enveloped by a larger, black-grey furred hand and lowered. Lathus stepped forward, shielding her slightly.

“…Could you stop bullying my subordinate?”

“My apologies, Lathus. But this is convenient. Perhaps you could answer that question for her.”

“…Impossible. A thousand, two thousand… ten thousand. Perhaps even more sacrifices would have been necessary to achieve the same result.”

Lathus lowered his gaze slightly. For a moment, I thought I might have gone too far.

Then he looked up, his eyes blazing with quiet fury.

“—But that doesn’t mean I approve of your methods.”

…I’d gone too far in a different direction.

24: Reasons for Hatred

I had anticipated that an invitation from the Beastman Army, a faction known for their disapproval of the Lord of Disease’s methods, might result in a somewhat tense atmosphere.

However, I might have underestimated the extent of their hostility.

It seemed the carriage was surrounded.

And likely by armed beastmen.

“Master, I’m going out.”

“I’m coming too. Permission to exit.”

“…Very well. Considering the risk of the carriage itself being attacked… it makes no difference where we are.”

Liz disembarked first, and I followed.

We were already inside the encampment.

A small clearing enclosed by a wooden fence. Likely used for loading and unloading supplies.

There was nothing unusual about being stopped here.

Confirming our identity and purpose was standard procedure. Especially at a strategically important location like this.

—However, this was unusual.

Not only were spears and axes at the ready, but swords were drawn, and bows were strung with arrows.

“What is the meaning of this?” Liz spoke as my maid.

A beastman stepped forward. A young woman, judging by her appearance. Reddish-brown curly hair and matching cat ears. A feline beastman. She drew a double-edged sword and pointed it at me.

“—My family died because of the Lord of Disease.”

A sharp pang of guilt struck my chest. The memory of losing subordinates.

“He was my younger brother…”

…Ah.

I understood.

I understood what she was accusing me of.

Why her green eyes were filled with rage and hatred.

“Driven to a distant land and killed in a dishonorable battle… no, it wasn’t even a battle! It was a massacre!”

She wasn’t lying. She wasn’t wrong.

Everything could be interpreted through one’s own filter. There were no absolutes in this world.

“Kill the Lord of Disease!”

“Yes! Death to the one who defiles a warrior’s pride!”

The beastmen shouted, brandishing their weapons.

A spark of anger ignited within me.

“Silence…”

Liz stepped forward. In her hands, she held large fighting knives, seemingly drawn from nowhere.

The beastmen, intimidated by her presence, quieted down.

“I don’t usually introduce myself, but I’ll make an exception. I am a member of the Royal Guard, second in command of the Lord of Disease’s forces… the Darkling Blade.”

The sound of scraping metal accompanied a shower of sparks as she twirled the knives, reversing her grip, holding them crossed before her. Her red scarf wrapped itself around her arms.

“…The Royal Guard…”

“The Darkling Blade… Are you bluffing?”

“But… that is…”

Murmurs of unease rippled through the beastmen.

Nice one, Liz!

Maybe now we can talk calmly.

The thought was fleeting.

“—Anyone foolish enough to consider her an enemy has no place in the Demon King’s army. I’ll turn you all into fertilizer and make this Dark Forest a little bigger.”

Liz, stop.

Wasn’t that supposed to be a warning to calm them down?

I frantically looked at Samarkand. Say something sensible!

“I am Samarkand… You dare point your weapons at my master and insult her? Do not expect a painless death…”

Damn it.

Expecting a calm response from Samarkand, who adored me, had been a mistake.

And Samarkand had also drawn his scythe, his horns twisting and lengthening, his eyes glowing red. He was serious.

I sighed inwardly. I touched my mask, activating the voice-altering enchantment.

“Liz. Samarkand. —Lower your weapons.”

“Master,” Liz said, her eyes questioning.

“My master.” Samarkand echoed her sentiment with his gaze.

“That’s an order. Lower your weapons.”

Samarkand lowered his scythe.

“…I cannot comply.”

But Liz didn’t lower her knives.

“I have received a direct order from His Majesty: ‘Protect the Lord of Disease. Annihilate any enemy who dares to harm her.’ I apologize, but I cannot obey an order to lower my weapons in the face of the enemy.”

“—Where is the enemy?”

I slowly approached Liz, gesturing dramatically towards the armed beastmen.

“These are loyal soldiers of the Demon Kingdom, sworn to serve His Majesty the Demon King. The proud warriors of the Third Army.”

No one had died yet. I could still salvage this.

I looked into her eyes, my masked face close to hers, since she was slightly shorter than me.

“And we are the Sixth Army. —Tell me, what reason do we have to fight?”

And because I was a supreme commander, I understood.

Even if I died here, the Demon King’s army would survive.

But if even one of these beastmen, or Liz, or Samarkand died here… it could trigger internal conflict, even the collapse of the nation.

The duty of a supreme commander was to protect the Listrea Demon Kingdom from all threats.

Even if the threat stemmed from the folly of our own allies. Even if it meant sacrificing my own life.

I had to fulfill my duty.

“…Please,” I whispered into her long ear, softly enough that the sharp-eared beastmen wouldn’t hear.

“…Yes, Master. You are my master…”

Liz lowered her knives. But the beastmen didn’t lower their weapons.

“But Master, do you understand the situation?”

“Yes. But… someone reasonable is coming.”

I pointed towards the path leading into the clearing. More precisely, at the black-grey furred wolf beastman walking towards us.

His body radiated vitality, an aura of confidence. He wore a black, gold-buttoned coat, open at the front. I recognized him.

“What in the blazes is going on here?!”

His voice boomed through the clearing. He, too, was a supreme commander.

Lathus, the Broken Fang.

“Hello, Lathus.”

A member of the anti-Lord of Disease faction.

A warrior who valued pride and strength.

23: An Invitation from the Beastman Army

Samarkand currently held the position of bodyguard in the Lord of Disease’s forces. His job was to protect the Virus King, both openly and covertly.

However, being a bodyguard wasn’t a particularly busy job. This was generally true for soldiers, who mostly spent their time preparing for emergencies. It seemed a waste of his abilities.

So, like Liz, who served as vice-commander, bodyguard, and maid, I decided to have Samarkand also act as a liaison with the royal castle.

And it was Samarkand who brought back the invitation from the Beastman Army.

“An invitation from the Beastman Army?”

“Yes. What are your instructions?” I took the proffered envelope.

“Hmm… the leader of the Beastman Army is that ‘Broken Fang’ fellow, right?”

A wolf beastman, exceptionally large even among the generally well-built beastmen. He served as a supreme commander, renowned for his military achievements, one of the most prominent warriors in the Demon Kingdom.

“Yes, ‘Broken Fang’ Lathus.”

“I think he dislikes me. He’s always glaring at me during official events.”

“He’s part of the anti-Virus King faction… He’s a straightforward warrior, so it’s not surprising.”

It’s strange that they use the expression ‘straightforward,’ a distinctly Japanese idiom, in this Western-style fantasy world. I wondered if this was really how this world worked, or if it was a quirk of the translation.

I opened the envelope and checked the contents.

“The reason… isn’t stated. In fact, aside from all the formalities, it just says they want me to visit. I wonder what this is about?”

“Let me see that, Master.”

I waited while Liz read the letter.

“What do you think, Liz?”

“It smells like a trap.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling they’re planning to use this opportunity to eliminate a nuisance.”

However…

“But… this is an official request, right?”

“It was delivered to the royal castle first, my master.” Meaning there was a record of this invitation at the castle.

“Yes… even if they tried to make it look like an accident, it would become a matter of accountability…”

And this was their territory. If a ‘guest’ they’d invited… died in an ‘accident’…

Sending assassins to my mansion would be a hundred times better.

“Hmm… well, let’s go.”

“So casually…”

“I’d like to be on good terms with my fellow supreme commanders, and I doubt they’d actually set a trap after sending an official invitation like this.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The “Dark Forest.”

It had been called that for so long that no one felt the need to give it an official name.

Its other name was the “Great Forest.” As the name suggested, it was a vast forest stretching north of the royal capital.

Exactly where the Dark Forest, or Great Forest, began and ended was a matter of debate. There were occasional breaks in the trees, but half of this nation was covered in forest.

However, when referring to the “Dark Forest” without specifying a particular area, it generally meant the “Beastman Army encampment.”

While many beastmen were stationed at the border fortresses alongside the dark knights, the Beastman Army’s headquarters was here, in the Dark Forest.

Beastmen.

The males were almost entirely bestial in appearance, while the females resembled humans, except for having both human and animal ears. While they appeared to come in various animal types, I’d only seen canine and feline beastmen so far.

The current supreme commander, Lathus, was a wolf beastman.

Excluding the undead, whose circumstances were a bit unique, beastmen were one of the two most populous races in this nation, along with dark elves, making up roughly half the population.

“We’re almost at the encampment, my master.”

“Thank you, Samarkand. You’ve worked hard.”

“You’re too kind…”

I expressed my gratitude to Samarkand, who was serving as our coachman. We’d taken a carriage from the capital. While the roads weren’t paved, the journey took less than half a day, now that the snow had melted.

“The atmosphere really does change once you leave the capital.”

“The capital has been thoroughly developed… This might be closer to the nation’s original landscape.”

The dense forest filled my vision.

Looking up, I could see the sky through the branches.

There were no plains suitable for farming or grazing.

This land was harsh, unforgiving. The demons had been driven to the northern edge of the continent, a land originally inhabited by only a small number of beastmen.

“My homeland was similar to this. A little further north, though.”

“I wonder… what my homeland was like…”

Were there forests?

I could only recall fragments.

Rows of similar houses, in residential areas I could categorize into a few patterns.

Taller buildings in the city center, blocking out the sky.

I couldn’t even remember the prefecture.

I’ve forgotten…

And yet, those fragmented images felt nostalgic. Perhaps because it was my homeland.

“Master…”

I felt a gentle touch on my arm, and a warmth spread through me. I reached out and hugged Liz.

“Well, this is my home now!”

“Master, if you’re going to get sentimental, could you at least see it through?”

Liz’s voice was filled with exasperation.

Suddenly, Liz’s expression turned serious. Did I say something wrong? The thought was fleeting.

“Samarkand! Perimeter check! Master, put on your mask. Don’t move until I give the order.”

“Understood.”

I put on the mask I’d left on the seat, thinking I wouldn’t need it until we arrived. From this moment on, I was the Lord of Disease.

Liz swiftly drew the curtains, obscuring the view outside. I could no longer see what was happening, but Samarkand’s words filled me in.

“—Beastman Army soldiers. This is a rather… hostile welcome. They arranged this meeting. They should know who’s in this carriage…”

22. That Type of Yokai Who Drags Their Maid into Bed in the Morning

As a supreme commander of the Demon King’s army, there were several regulations.

Regulations concerning the chain of command, such as making the Demon King’s orders absolute.

Regulations defining the extent of their authority.

And some… slightly unusual regulations.

One: To have a vice-commander whenever possible.

One: To have at least one subordinate from a different race.

These regulations were intended to broaden the perspective of supreme commanders, who were also the leaders of each army.

As the Lord of Disease, being human with Liz, my dark elf vice-commander, I fulfilled both of these regulations simultaneously.

Incidentally, with the exception of my unit and the dragon’s unit, the supreme commander and vice-commander were of the same race. While the commander of the undead army was technically an exception, they were still considered undead.

There was no explicit regulation regarding the race of the vice-commander, but it was simply a position typically filled by someone who had achieved prominence within the predominant race of each army. Thus, the supreme commander and vice-commander often ended up being of the same race.

Why was I contemplating this with a sleepy mind?

There were no regulations regarding the waking hours of a supreme commander.

“Please get up!”

…Yet, my vice-commander would come to my room every morning, intent on waking me up at a precise hour. I grabbed the blanket, determined not to let her pull it away.

“Aww… I don’t want to get up yet…”

Liz, as if to say, What are you saying while half-asleep? raised her voice slightly.

“What kind of leader are you being?!”

She was right. However, sophistry existed to counter righteousness.

“You said before that a leader should be composed…”

“Ugh… that’s true, but…”

“Then, just a little longer…” I pulled the blanket back over myself, enjoying its warmth—a noble pursuit I’d been interrupted from.

“No, no! Rolling around in bed is not being composed!”

Again, she was right. However, I had my own points to make.

“I don’t have any work today, though.”

The workload of the Lord of Disease, varied from day to day.

The first task, when there was work, was to read reports. If necessary, review and revise operational plans. This planning and strategizing constituted over eighty percent of my work as the Virus King. But it also meant there were times when I was completely idle.

In the absence of regulations regarding supreme commander vacations, I believed it was my duty to revitalize myself during these less busy times by interacting with my adorable maid, under the guise of ‘resting.’

Next, there were external duties, though few in number. Being summoned by His Majesty for an audience at the royal castle fell into this category.

Essentially, these were ornamental tasks. But to put it bluntly, the Virus King was a paper tiger, so I couldn’t afford to completely disregard these appearances.

“There’s always attack plans to devise! Come on, let’s work towards human extinction… I mean, let’s fight until only one of us is left!”

I was a little touched by Liz’s correction. But even so, there were things I had to say.

“You wouldn’t be so nonchalant if coming up with supreme commander-level attack plans was easy.”

“…Well, I suppose that’s true.” Liz conceded reluctantly.

The job of the Lord of Disease, was planning and giving orders.

Conversely, my plans had to be innovative—or perhaps ruthless—enough to be considered the work of a supreme commander simply by my issuing an order.

My plans were actually quite orthodox, and not particularly ruthless compared to historical events on Earth.

But while we talked, my eyes slowly woke up. However, giving in and getting up now felt like letting Liz win, and that was a little boring.

“How about you just join me, Liz?”

So, I pulled back the blanket and patted the empty space next to me, inviting her to join.

“What?! Wha—um, but—”

“…It’s warm?”

If she had a weakness, it was her excessive dedication to duty.

For her, a perfect assassin, this would normally be a fatal flaw.

In the battlefield, where assassin skills and mental fortitude were paramount, she would never hesitate. If necessary, she would discard anything and ruthlessly eliminate her target, fulfilling her mission.

But here, now, the simple and profound reason she couldn’t refuse my frivolous invitation was…

Liz was my vice-commander, my bodyguard, my attendant—and my maid. In other words, ‘pleasing me’ and ‘keeping me in a good mood to ensure smooth work’ were also part of her job, her mission.

Of course, she had a degree of autonomy. There was no problem with her refusing this offer, which wasn’t even an order.

But she was, ultimately, ‘exceptional.’

She would overthink things.

How to please me.

How not to upset me.

She constantly weighed how many invitations to reject and how many requests to accept.

Moreover, she had impeccable taste.

Delicious food, leisurely time. We were kindred spirits in our love for such things. That meant she also loved warm blankets.

“Will you… be motivated?”

“Extremely.”

And this was ‘work,’ a ‘mission.’

A bizarre situation that would never happen in a normal military, one that a sensible soldier would never have to contend with throughout their life. But her exceptional nature meant that the immense burden would become too much for her to bear.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Liz kicked off her shoes and slid into the bed, still in her maid uniform. The initial chill from the cool autumn air she carried quickly dissipated as the heat from our combined bodies warmed the blankets again.

I enjoyed indulging and corrupting the cold-blooded assassin.

“Blankets are wonderful…”

“They really are…”

The simple pleasure of a sleepy conversation. If this was calculated on her part, I’d be terrified of Liz.

But I doubted that was the case.

Still, even if she were calculating, her subtle manipulations were adorable, and her willingness to go along with my whims was irresistible.

In short, regardless of how it started, almost everything about Liz was right in my strike zone.

A moment later, a knock echoed through the room.

“My master. May I enter?” His voice was deep. It was Samarkand.

“Come in.”

I ordered from my reclined position, using my most decisive Virus King tone.

“Huh, wha—wait, wait!”

Liz scrambled to sit up in bed, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders to hide her rumpled maid uniform.

Naturally, she couldn’t get ready in the few seconds it took the quick-moving black goat to receive permission and enter.

“…My apologies. I wasn’t aware of the nature of your relationship.”

As a result, the scene looked like something that had just happened. If only I hadn’t done anything suspicious, it wouldn’t have looked like this.

I sat up and faced Samarkand.

“Samarkand, it’s not a misunderstanding, but it’s probably a misunderstanding.”

“Yes! It’s not entirely a misunderstanding, but it is a misunderstanding!”

“…Meaning?”

“It might be a misunderstanding.”

“It is a misunderstanding.”

“We were just relaxing for a bit.”

“Yes. At Master’s request… we were simply sleeping together.”

It would have been amusing to let them think whatever they wanted, but I worried about the repercussions, so I clarified the situation. Though it was a little bit of a misunderstanding.

“Liz. Should we just make it not a misunderstanding?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“—What do you think I mean?”

I reached out and gently touched Liz’s cheek, as if she were something fragile. Well, she was fragile, in a way. This relationship, this moment, was delicate and precarious.

“Gulp.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she was speechless.

Was it arrogant of me to think that perhaps there was a hint of her own feelings in that reaction?

But I was smart enough to be a supreme commander, and I paid close attention to Liz, so I knew. Her hesitation, her silence, was due to her duties.

She couldn’t refuse me.

She couldn’t say anything that would significantly upset me.

—At the same time, she couldn’t give me the illusion that I could always have my way.

I was a supreme commander. She understood perfectly that it was dangerous to inflate my ego or provoke me, given the various precarious authorities I held.

But I didn’t want to see that look on Liz’s face.

“Sorry.”

Without specifying what I was apologizing for, I wrapped my arm around her neck and gently hugged her. I felt her shoulders relax.

“…My master. Forgive the interruption, but I have something to report.”

Samarkand spoke hesitantly. His tone was serious.

“What is it already…?” Liz grumbled in my arms. I released her and sat up on the bed.

“—What is it?”

Samarkand offered me a letter.

“An invitation has arrived from the Beastman Army.”

21. It’s Natural to Want to Bathe with a Cute Girl

The thought suddenly struck me.

“Liz, let’s take a bath together!”

“…Um… with Master…?” Liz’s face contorted into a clear expression of reluctance.

“I’ll be waiting outside… I’m a maid…”

“But you’re also my bodyguard, right? You’re vulnerable in the bath.”

“That’s precisely why I think I should remain fully armored.”

She had a point. However, I had recently acquired a tool to dismantle such sensible arguments.

“I’ll have Samarkand guard us outside.”

“Why are you so insistent?”

I stated my case with conviction.

“Isn’t it natural to want to bathe with a cute girl?”

“Huh? …Huh?” Naturally, Liz was confused.

“Is that… how it works?”

“Yeah, that’s how it works. Come on in. Let’s go.” I tried to press the matter with sheer enthusiasm.

“Ugh… alright.”

“Samarkand. You heard that, right?” I glanced at the black goat waiting behind me.

“Indeed. I shall remain on guard. Maintaining strict vigilance of the surroundings.” Samarkand nodded.

He had only recently become my subordinate, so I wasn’t sure of his full capabilities, but it was clear he possessed combat prowess recognized even by Liz, and enhanced presence detection due to his high magical power.

“This is the first truly important personal mission I’m assigning you since you officially joined my ranks. Please handle it well.”

“Leave everything to me.” His reply was reassuring.

It was good to have reliable subordinates. Although I’d been a little uneasy given the circumstances of how he’d joined, he’d already gotten along well with the Barghests.

The new security system—Barghests in the yard, Samarkand inside, and Liz overseeing them—was functioning smoothly.

I headed to the bathhouse with Liz.

Actually, demon ‘baths’ were… unusual.

There were several reasons for this. They had been driven from their homeland, losing their bathing facilities along with many other possessions. They had experienced a time when even clean water was unavailable without using magic. They could maintain a certain level of cleanliness for themselves and their clothes using various spells.

Thus, the culture of bathing had nearly died out.

However, habits like washing remained, and soaking in a tub of hot water hadn’t completely disappeared. I’d heard that hot springs were still popular in some regions, and judging by the presence of several public bathhouses in towns, dark elves and beastmen, the core races of the demon kingdom, were quite fond of bathing.

Therefore, rather than dying out, bathing culture had evolved. But now, instead of hot water, we bathed in ooze.

A type of slime-like monster. Some were natural, but for bathing, you’d summon ooze using the magic [Create Ooze] and heat it to a suitable temperature using another spell.

A method of bathing that was a complete culture shock. But now, I was used to it, and I even liked it.

When you had a mentally draining job like orchestrating human extinction, time spent eating and bathing was crucial. Even more so when it was with a cute girl.

So, I was in a cheerful mood, and Liz started talking.

“Master, you really enjoy bathing.”

“Japanese people like bathing. …Though ooze baths are a bit different…”

The first time I’d bathed in ooze, I’d felt like I was truly in another world, far more than when I’d first seen magic or dark elves.

But even by modern Earth standards, if someone told you it was just bathwater with a lot of thickening agent, you might believe them. Or if they talked about dissolved minerals and water quality.

It was semi-transparent, pale green… and when you stepped in, it had a thick, viscous texture.

I’d never done it, but I imagined it would be similar if you added a lot of lotion.

It definitely had excellent moisturizing properties. Since coming here, despite having no access to cosmetics, I’d never worried about skin problems.

“We had some weird bath salts too, you know.”

“Bath salts?”

“It’s a medicine you put in the bath. It dissolves and releases medicinal compounds.”

“Oh… sounds similar to ooze.”

“Yeah, well… you could say that.” I was reluctant to fully equate ooze with bath salts. Water was one thing, but the water itself was suspicious.

“By the way, we also have this fish called doctor fish.”

“You eat them?”

I remembered teaching her that phrase.

“No, not that. It’s not for eating. There’s a therapy where you put fish that eat dead skin cells in a pool and soak in it.”

“Oh… that’s unusual.”

“I don’t think it’s any more unusual than bathing in ooze.”

Natural ooze was an aquatic creature. It digested and absorbed dead bodies and fallen leaves, breaking them down and expelling them. They were similar to earthworms or bacteria. I suspected they also ate dead skin cells and calluses when you bathed.

“For us, this is bathing.”

“Right, that’s how it works. Your common sense is someone else’s unusual. It’s often amusing, but…”

“…Yes, that’s true,” Liz smiled and nodded.

If only everyone understood that obvious truth, there wouldn’t be any wars. Especially not extinction wars between different races, the worst kind of war.

“[Create Ooze],” I chanted.

The first magic I learned was [Create Ooze].

I remembered the feeling of awe.

—Along with the that’s not right feeling when I saw the writhing, pale green viscous creatures, so different from the image of ‘magic’ I had in my head.

“[Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze], [Create Ooze]…”

This wasn’t just a house; it was a mansion, so the bath was large. I had to cast [Create Ooze] about a hundred times to fill it.

Heating it didn’t even require chanting. I put my hand in the ooze, focusing my magic on raising the temperature. It looked like I was just checking the water temperature.

Incidentally, this was usually my job. It served as practice for ‘everyday magic,’ and Liz was a bodyguard. Her mana was her weapon.

Apparently, Liz wouldn’t be tired out by chanting [Create Ooze] a hundred or two hundred times.

Once the ooze was warm, I returned to the changing room and undressed. I’d already checked the temperature, but I touched it with my toes to be sure before getting in.

Sliding into the slippery mass was an indescribable sensation. A mixture of pleasure and perversion. It was a little like playing in mud.

Using this much magic at once was tiring, as I only did it during baths. However, warming the ooze melted away the fatigue from chanting, making the bath even more enjoyable. And the bathtub was made of natural marble. Sharing it with Liz made it a truly luxurious bath time.

As I soaked, Liz tilted her head.

“…Master, are you not going to do anything?”

“Were you expecting something? I’m not opposed to meeting expectations.”

“No, not at all.”

“That’s a shame.” I poured some of the ooze over my shoulder. It felt more like putting a slimy mass on my shoulder than pouring water.

“In my country, bathing is sacred.”

“A religious reason…?”

“A little different. Maybe tradition.”

I slowly sank down, until the ooze covered my shoulders. As I told her, I didn’t intend to do anything perverted. That being said, I gazed at Liz submerged in the ooze.

The low transparency of the ooze was a little disappointing, but I couldn’t stop admiring her shoulders, her arms, her chest. And her cheeks, flushed from the warmth, a gentle reminder of how bathing enhanced a girl’s beauty.

“…Um, Master? Why are you looking at me during this sacred ritual…?” A trickle of sweat ran down Liz’s cheek.

“Bathing is sacred, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do anything perverted while bathing. Besides, doesn’t defiling something sacred excite you?”

“I see your perverted preferences have not changed, Master.”

She spoke with a sharp tongue, but if I took it in the most favorable and positive light, it was simply the sign of a comfortable, unreserved relationship.

“Well, rest assured. I won’t lay a hand on you.”

“But you’ll stare.”

“That’s a separate matter.”

“…Well, fine. We are the same gender, after all…” I interlaced my fingers and stretched upwards, palms facing the sky.

“Ahhh~! A bath is a purification of the soul!”

“Purification of the… soul?”

“It’s an idiom from my country. It means a bath refreshes your mind.”

“I see. A unique turn of phrase. Your country is strange.”

“This country is pretty strange when it comes to baths too.”

I kneaded the ooze, letting it squish between my fingers, the peculiar sensation of the heavy, slimy mass dripping off my hands, pulled by gravity.

“Master, I think I’ll get out now. What about you?”

I didn’t want to leave this paradise. I was reluctant for this blissful time to end.

“One more hour…” So, I decided to indulge my desires.

“Wait a minute. That’s too long.”

“It’ll be fine…” Technically, the ooze disappeared after about an hour, so another hour was probably impossible.

At public bathhouses, they apparently employed people to turn over hourglasses and periodically cast [Create Ooze]. Since they could spend the rest of the time reading or chatting, it was considered a relatively popular job. Some public bathhouses even had well-spoken individuals serving as the resident celebrities.

“No, I can’t allow that, not as your bodyguard. …You don’t have any special racial traits I don’t know about, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, let’s get out.”

“Aww…” I immersed myself up to my nose. I decided against blowing bubbles, as I might suffocate.

“Let’s get out today. We can take a bath together again soon…”

“Alright! I’ll get out right away!” I stood up with enthusiasm. The ooze clinging to my body flowed off, thick and sticky.

“I’ll rinse you off.”

“Okay, please do.” Liz created water to rinse the ooze from my hair and skin. The magically generated water disappeared quickly and was unsuitable for drinking or long soaks. But it was thanks to this magic that we could afford to bathe in such copious amounts of ooze (or water, in this case).

Incidentally, summoned creatures like ooze and generated water could be instantly dispelled by the caster, but it was better for hair and skin to let them dry naturally. So, letting them air dry or using a towel were the usual ways to dry off after a bath.

“Thanks, Liz. That was fun. Let’s bathe together again soon.” I thanked her and took the large white towel she offered, then noticed her staring at me intently.

“…Master, were you… planning this the whole time?”

I wrapped the towel around myself and smiled.

“What are you talking about?”

Incidentally, I hadn’t planned anything at all. I’d just decided to play along with Liz’s comment and create a meaningful atmosphere.

20. A Demon’s Loyalty

“—Samarkand.”

“Yes…”

Before me, kneeling on one knee, was the goat-headed demon, Samarkand.

Even beneath his thick black fur, I could see the defined muscles of his upper body. His head and lower body were that of a goat, as was his tail.

A grotesque, inhuman form.

It had only been a week since he’d come to assassinate me, the Virus King, Lord of Disease. But now, bound by a blood contract, he was my loyal servant.

I tapped his shoulder with my staff, in a gesture reminiscent of a knighting ceremony. Even kneeling, he was so tall that I had to raise my arm slightly to reach him.

“I grant you the rank of third in the Virus King’s forces. You will be assigned to the bodyguard unit. Understood?”

There had been some… friction… before his official assignment was finalized. The objections boiled down to, “Are we really going to let a supreme commander assassination perpetrator go free, even if it was just an attempt?”

My counterarguments were as follows:

It was an attempt, and he’d ultimately refused to carry it out of his own volition.

He was now bound by a blood contract, completely subservient to me.

But in the end, I’d had to force the issue, using my success in neutralizing the Dragon Knights and the ‘reward’ associated with it as leverage. According to Liz, it was also partly to appease those who were watching my every move, wondering what kind of reward I would receive.

“I am deeply honored. I swear to overcome all obstacles and fulfill the duties of this rank and position. My everything belongs to you. Please accept my eternal loyalty.”

“…Samarkand. That’s a lot.”

“Master, it’s a ritual,” Liz interjected.

“Oh, sorry.” I cleared my throat and started again.

“—I accept your loyalty, Samarkand.”

The black goat bowed his head respectfully.

“Um, is that it?”

“Well, it’s mostly formality. Samarkand has already entered into a blood contract…”

Samarkand looked up, his gaze meeting mine.

“My master. My only fear is failing to earn your favor. Speak your desires. I will use all my abilities to fulfill your every wish.”

“Is this the part where you ask for my soul in exchange?”

The thought that that’s so demon-like was fleeting.

“If anything, the price was my soul. From the moment we formed the blood contract, my existence is solely to serve you.”

“Wait, Samarkand. That’s a lot. Too much. The ritual is over, you know?”

“I am aware, but…?” His goat eyes, those crescent moons, tilted slightly. He was being polite, but I understood what he was trying to convey.

He was expressing his confusion. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

In Japan, I would probably never use, nor hear, such pronouncements. I’d said his declaration was ‘a lot,’ and he’d responded with, ‘I don’t understand.’

I don’t even understand myself.

“I should have asked this earlier, but why are you so… intense, Samarkand?”

“…Intense?” Oh dear, I’m starting to worry about his common sense.

“Indeed, to human sensibilities… my words may sound… exaggerated.”

“…Right.”

Exaggerated, or perhaps overly dramatic.

“But I have nothing else to offer. I only have my own abilities. —Therefore, I have decided to use my life and all my abilities for you.”

“Sorry, I lost you at ‘therefore.’ Could you explain that a little more clearly?”

Samarkand slumped, dejected.

“I am a fool for using words my master cannot understand. But please, allow me to elaborate.”

“…Yes, you’re forgiven. Go ahead.”

I had a few things to say about that statement, too, but I decided to focus on the main issue.

“My master, are you familiar with demons?”

“…Not really… only general knowledge.”

Demons.

Powerful beings.

Exceptionally skilled in magic, all of them formidable mages.

Long lifespans. Resilient bodies.

Generally humanoid, but with variations in appearance, like Samarkand’s goat-like features, some with bestial skulls, others with bat-like wings.

My knowledge was limited to these general, superficial observations.

“Did you know… demons don’t have children?”

“…Then how do you… multiply?”

Samarkand shook his head slightly.

“We don’t know. Perhaps we are like the undead, spontaneously generated from pools of magical energy infused with resentment and souls…”

A race that didn’t know its origins. They didn’t even know how they were born.

“We simply have memories from a certain point in time. We grow stronger with time, gain experience through battles. There’s no strict definition of a greater demon, but consider it a general term for those who have accumulated power. We have something resembling a lifespan… but we are a long-lived race, rivaled only by dragons.”

“That part, I’m definitely envious of.”

“The grass is always greener… We have no parents, no children. No past, no future.”

He… chuckled? His goat-like mouth opened slightly, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Our connections with each other are also tenuous. A sense of camaraderie with those who share the same sense of emptiness. That’s all we feel towards our own kind. We don’t even know if we are the same kind.”

I was the only human in this nation. I didn’t believe that race was everything.

But I understood the feeling of kinship, of shared identity. I knew what it felt like to care for a younger sibling.

—And they didn’t.

“That is why we seek purpose. We seek masters. We seek friends. We seek followers. We desire something, anything, to leave a mark on this world, to forge connections during our fleeting existence.”

His crescent-moon eyes pierced me.

“I… have found my master. One worthy of my service. One whose every word I can believe without a shadow of a doubt.”

“…I… might not be such a great master.”

I knew he was being sincere. The blood contract didn’t allow for falsehoods towards one’s master. Lies would be felt.

And truth… would be felt, too.

“I felt destiny’s hand. That is enough. I have already entrusted my life to you. Use it as you see fit.”

“That’s why I’m telling you to take care of yourself…”

The problem was, I knew he meant it.

“—I am.”

And yet, the black goat smiled contentedly.

“There is nothing more foolish than to disobey one’s own heart…”

“…Right.”

This warmth that filled my chest. This terrifyingly heavy, absolute loyalty. The offer of a demon’s lifespan, longer than a human’s, dedicated to me.

It’s frightening.

“I’ll do my best, Samarkand. To be worthy of your faith.”

I probably wasn’t the master he believed me to be. I was just a human.

Someone who’d lived an ordinary life, then decided to turn it all upside down and embrace ruthlessness.

But if he believed in me this much… I wanted to believe in the me he believed in.

I wasn’t called the Virus King, Lord of Disease for nothing.