The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 102

Chapter 102
## Chapter 102: The Frozen Plains

The Mercenary Association.

Much like the way every champion eventually gravitated toward the Heroic Union, every sellsword found their way to the Mercenary Association. While membership wasn’t a legal requirement, the decades of established trust and their rigorous organizational structure made it a practical necessity. Most clients simply didn’t trust a blade for hire who didn’t carry the official badge of the guild.

‘They have to be breathing.’

The Association maintained outposts wherever civilization took root. This was true even here, at the most remote fortification pressing against the edge of the tundra.

Granada slipped away to visit the guild hall alone. Though the Red Hawk Mercenary Corps had been drafted into an official strike force, their identity was rooted in the guild. If they had survived the chaos, he knew exactly where to find them: lounging in the familiar atmosphere of the local branch.

‘Surely they didn’t all perish?’

They were survivors by nature. In the past, they had often prioritized their own safety over the success of a contract, a trait that usually annoyed him but now offered a glimmer of hope. Over the last twelve months, he had grown accustomed to their presence, developing a bond built on shared hardships and mutual irritation.

‘Just a precaution.’

A knot of dread tightened in his stomach. They were resourceful, but the arctic wastes were unforgiving. Between the relentless demons, corrupted beasts, and the sheer number of monsters, the environment itself was a death sentence. Even if the Sovereign of Frigid Frost hadn’t been actively hunting them, the elements alone claimed many. He couldn’t be certain.

*Creak—*

“Keep it coming! Pour another round!”

“Deputy, did you swallow so much ice out there that there’s no room left for ale?”

“Maybe he’s just shivering because he spent the whole time wrapped in that beast pelt. Remember how he ate that entire slab of salted meat by himself?”

“Quiet, you lot! If I don’t finish this keg, I’m turning in my stripes and becoming a cabin boy again!”

“That’s a bet! I’m holding you to it!”

“The loser does the laundry for a month!”

Granada’s anxiety evaporated the moment he crossed the threshold. Because of the constant monster activity in the north, this branch was massive to accommodate the workload. A large building meant a large crowd, but even in the roar of the tavern, the boisterous shouts of the Red Hawk leadership were unmistakable.

Granada navigated through the rows of tables. The air was thick with the scent of cheap liquor, the thunder of laughter, and the heavy musk of unwashed warriors and roasted food. He stopped at the epicenter of the noise.

Ignoring the wide-eyed stares of his men, he began to count them with a pointed finger.

“One, two, three… thirty-two.”

“C-Captain?”

“Every single one of you made it back?”

The roster was complete. Granada broke into a wide smirk, while his subordinates gave him sheepish, tentative grins.

“Well… after we stayed low for a few days, the heat just seemed to die down out of nowhere…”

“I’m aware. You did well to stay hidden.”

“Y-You think so?”

“I do. Survival is a talent. However…”

*Snap—*

Granada effortlessly broke a wooden leg off a nearby chair, hefting it like a bludgeon.

“Throwing a massive party without bothering to report in? That is not what I’d call talented.”

“Captain, wait!”

“Let’s be reasonable! Talk to us!”

“Civilized people use their words!”

“I’m an elf, you idiots!”

The disciplinary action began immediately. The Red Hawks scrambled in every direction, and the surrounding mercenaries—enraged by knocked-over drinks—started swinging at whoever was closest. The tavern dissolved into a glorious riot.

—

“So, you’re asking for repair funds because of their behavior?”

Berge stared at Granada, wondering if the man had lost his mind.

“…They managed to dismantle the entire interior of the pub.”

“What? You’re the one who—”

Granada quickly covered the subordinate’s mouth. Berge let out a weary sigh as Granada looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re already causing a scene. I thought elves were supposed to be elegant and reserved. Are you sure about your lineage?”

“……”

“Never mind. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Hillun Kagil is conscious.”

A soldier from the Chernian Margrave’s personal guard had delivered the message. He had facilitated a meeting for Berge and Granada to see the recovered hero. When they entered the infirmary, they found Hillun sitting upright on his cot, staring into space.

“…Where am I?”

“Cherville, the northern stronghold. You are inside the lord’s estate.”

“…Then I actually made it.”

Hillun’s memories ended at the snowfields. He remembered Berge falling from the sky and the roar of arcane artillery. He remembered the desperate flight and the way the earth shook under the Demon King’s power.

“I am in your debt,” Hillun said, bowing his head solemnly. “I wouldn’t be breathing if not for your intervention.”

“You realize that now. Granada told me what happened. You were swarmed by demons and beasts?”

“Yes. It was the first time I’ve ever seen them open the gates of the spire to lead an offensive.”

“It isn’t the first time.”

“Was it that different from your own actions, Demon King?”

This was far more organized than a simple nocturnal monster raid.

“You tried to stop me before—was it because you knew this would happen?”

“I suspected your group wouldn’t find an easy victory. I didn’t expect the situation to escalate quite this much.”

“…Even with the blood of two Demon Kings on our hands, it wasn’t enough.”

“Reina arrived in the world of Aren nearly a century ago. Regardless of how many heroes arise, the Demon Kings are the elite of their realm. They aren’t foes you can afford to take lightly.”

“I learned that lesson the hard way.”

Hillun nodded, his expression grim. When Berge had arrived to rescue him, the reality had set in. They were still trapped in the shadow cast by the Demon Kings. Even if this had been part of Berge’s design, the forces that had nearly annihilated them belonged solely to the Sovereign of Frigid Frost. He realized they were still woefully unprepared to face entities that had survived for decades.

“I prefer that expression on your face. How do you feel physically?”

“A bit weak, but otherwise functional.”

“You didn’t have any life-threatening wounds to begin with. Now that you’re awake, the Margrave will want an audience. Likely with all of us.”

“The Margrave…”

The Lord of the North wanted a connection with Hillun, and the feeling was mutual. While the heavy burden of northern defense limited the Margrave’s influence in the central capital, he held absolute authority in these lands and commanded a massive portion of the imperial army.

“Whatever deals or alliances you strike with him are your business. I don’t care about your politics.”

“Thank you.”

“However, make sure his curiosity doesn’t extend to me.”

“Wouldn’t it benefit you to take a more public role, Demon King?”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

It might have some advantages, but Berge was still a Demon King. He wasn’t interested in the elaborate masks or societal games that Hillun played. Meeting with Akan’s associate, Cain, had taught Berge a valuable lesson: a long tail is eventually stepped on. As long as Hillun Kagil and Granada were the faces of their operations, he had no reason to be in the spotlight. A quiet connection with Akan was sufficient.

“I understand. I will manage the narrative.”

“Then I have no reason to linger here.”

“If you just disappear, the Chernian Margrave won’t take it as a compliment.”

“Why should I care about the feelings of a human noble?”

“It may not affect you, Demon King, but it affects the reputation of Granada and myself.”

“He has a point.”

Berge looked back at Hillun.

“That is exactly why we waited for you to open your eyes.”

“What…?”

“Yes,” Hillun agreed. “I will handle the explanations.”

“Maintain the link between myself and Akan if it becomes necessary. Our current arrangement is working well enough.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll be in touch if something changes.”

“I will be waiting.”

*Slide—*

Berge moved toward the window and opened it.

“Uh, would you mind using the actual door like a guest? Just tell them you’re stepping out for some fresh air—they won’t stop you while I’m here.”

“Fine.”

He exited through the door instead.

—

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

Nearly twenty kilometers from the Cherville fortress, right at the boundary between the empire and the frozen waste, Ernyan was huddled in the snow. She sniffed, her nose red from the cold.

“Hillun took his time waking up.”

“I’m glad he’s okay.”

“The injuries were superficial.”

“Still, you can’t be too sure.”

“No trouble with the monsters?”

“I stayed out of sight. I was mostly worried about demons patrolling the area.”

“You did a good job.”

“That’s all I get?”

“What?”

“I spent the day trekking through this, wandering alone, and then days buried in a snowbank—”

“I said you did a good job.”

“…Fine. Whatever.”

“We’re heading south. I want to see what the Empire and the Southern Alliance are planning.”

“Oh. Right. I almost forgot about that.”

The events in the north had been mentally taxing. The biting cold and the constant threat of discovery by demons wore down one’s spirit.

“We aren’t using Cherville’s teleportation circle. We’ll find another city. Keep your hair and eyes covered; we need to remain inconspicuous.”

“Does it matter if we look like this?”

“I’m leaving without the Margrave’s knowledge.”

“Wait, won’t that cause problems?”

“That’s why Hillun and Granada are there.”

“I see.”

Then, a low vibration echoed.

*Vmmm—*

The communication device in Berge’s pocket began to glow. It was his direct line to Reina. He gestured for Ernyan to move a distance away.

『Berge Dayas.』

“What is it?”

『Where are you currently? You aren’t at your spire.』

“The Erjest Mountains. I’ve stepped away to press-gang some local monsters into service as familiars.”

Demon Kings weren’t strictly confined to their towers. Their primary duty was to be present when heroes reached the peak, and to avoid being seen in embarrassing circumstances by humans. Essentially, it meant they shouldn’t wander aimlessly, but leaving to bolster their forces was perfectly normal behavior.

『I understand.』

“Why are you calling?”

『You remember our conversation about me capturing Hillun Kagil for you.』

“I do. You were going to spare the rabble and make an example of the hero. Did you succeed?”

『I failed.』

“Failure? You aren’t usually so ill-prepared.”

『I brought everything I could, but it wasn’t enough. I underestimated the resilience of the humans.』

“This is the world of Aren. Don’t be overconfident.”

『I’ll take that to heart. However…』

She stopped. The silence stretched out, making Berge feel the weight of every second.

‘Did she find something out?’

There was no logical reason to worry, but a sense of guilt made him tense. He could predict what she would say next.

『The high-ranking demon I dispatched to hunt Hillun reported something strange.』

『They saw you.』

He knew it. Berge responded with a voice as cold as the wind, his expression shifting into one of feigned confusion.

“They saw me?”

『Let me rephrase. They saw a human who looked exactly like you.』

“A human who resembles me… that’s an interesting story.”

Berge let out a short, dismissive laugh.

“And what was this human doing?”

『He rescued Hillun Kagil just as my forces were about to seize him. He ruined the entire operation.』

“Kill that demon.”

『Pardon?』

“I haven’t set foot outside of Erjest. If your subordinate is fabricating stories about another Demon King to explain away their incompetence, execute them on the spot.”

His voice was a low growl, but she only chuckled.

『The demon didn’t explicitly claim it was you.』

『Only that, aside from the hair, the eyes, and the lack of aura—everything else was a perfect match.』

“Do you know what we call that?”

『What?』

“Completely different.”

『I suppose you’re right.』

“Why even tell me this? Do you actually suspect me?”

『No.』

“If it had been me, Hillun’s head would have been a trophy in the snow a long time ago. I have no love for that man.”

『I apologize if I offended you. I’m merely venting.』

『I was so certain of my success that the failure has left me in a foul mood.』

『And I can’t exactly take it out on my loyal servants.』

“Understood. But remember: I have no reason to work against you. We are partners—trust is the foundation of our alliance.”

『I am sorry. Truly.』

“…I accept your apology. What are your plans now?”

『I’m considering my options.』

There was a trace of lingering irritation in her voice. Berge kept his face an unreadable mask.

“I have nothing to add regarding the failure. I’m sure your next attempt will be better.”

『Yes.』

The connection went dead. Berge let out a long, shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“…Did she believe it?”

She seemed to. No rational being would mistake a human with zero demonic presence for a Demon King based solely on physical features. Reina’s tone suggested she was sharing a strange coincidence rather than an accusation.

“Let’s move.”

“Right behind you.”

Berge and Ernyan accelerated their pace.

—

Deep in the northern tundra, at the Spire of Frigid Frost.

Reina sat staring at the darkened communication orb for a long time. Nina, sensing her mistress’s strange mood, spoke up.

“My Lady?”

“…It was.”

“…Excuse me?”

“…The snowfields…”

The transmission orb only showed a small area, but it captured the background. Over Berge’s shoulder: the frozen plains. The vast, white horizon. It was a vista that Reina Sordain knew intimately. It was closer to the Empire than her specific territory, but there was no mistaking the terrain.

The snowfields.

“It was the snowfields…”

Reina whispered to herself, her eyes wide with a manic realization.