The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 139

Chapter 139
## Chapter 139: Currents Surrounding the Tower

Aman Katrash was more than just a merchant. As the vice leader of the Golden Moon Merchant Group and a Black Knight bound to the Demon King, he possessed a sharp mind for logistics and trade. Though his life as a knight ended when his Aura Hall was shattered, he had found his true calling in the world of commerce.

His primary mission was not merely making a profit, but securing resources for the Demon King—the ultimate enemy of mankind. This clandestine operation was known only to a select few within the Golden Moon hierarchy.

Currently, Aman stared at a list provided by the Demon King’s elven messenger, his usual composure wavering. The sheer volume of rare materials requested was staggering.

“This is excessive,” Aman admitted, his brow furrowed. “Securing these specific rarities is a monumental task.”

“Are you short on capital?” the elf asked.

“I cannot say for certain,” Aman replied cautiously. While the initial 100,000 gold provided by the Demon King had been multiplied through the efforts of his father and their subordinates, their liquid assets were tied up in various projects. Furthermore, the eyes of the other group executives were always watching. The items requested were not only difficult to find but carried exorbitant price tags.

“Purchasing all of this would put the entire merchant group’s stability at risk,” Aman noted. Beyond the cost, there was the issue of accountability. He couldn’t exactly report these goods as sold to the public. If he drained the coffers and the inventory simply “disappeared,” the other leaders wouldn’t just look the other way.

Even though Aman held the reins for his semi-retired father, the group was still a collective entity.

“If the compensation is sufficient, the executives won’t complain, will they?” the elf prompted.

“That is true,” Aman conceded. In trade, profit was the ultimate silencer. If the value of what returned equaled or exceeded what left, the internal friction would vanish.

“What about the mana cannons?” she asked.

Aman paused. “The mana cannons?”

“You are aware of what the supplies entering the tower are being used for.”

Aman nodded. He had seen the dwarf on the first floor tirelessly producing those devastating weapons. “Surely you don’t mean…”

“The Demon King is offering them as payment for these resources.”

Aman’s eyes lit up. This changed everything. Mana cannons and golems represented the zenith of magical engineering—strategic assets that every kingdom craved for their military might. Because so few could manufacture them, the demand was infinite.

“However, if these are dwarf-made, the Verft Kingdom will interfere immediately,” Aman cautioned. The dwarves guarded their technology fiercely; any hint of smuggling would trigger a swift investigation.

“Do not worry. The Demon King intends to calibrate their power to match high-quality human-made versions. Nothing more.”

“In that case, it is a perfect arrangement!”

“I shall relay your agreement to the Demon King,” the elf said before vanishing.

Aman remained in the silence, contemplating the future. His excitement wasn’t feigned; those mana cannons would be the ultimate bait for the executives. Since becoming a Black Knight, his investments in military hardware were finally bearing fruit as tensions between the tower and the human realms escalated.

Yet, a shadow of doubt crossed his mind. ‘Trading away such power… the situation must be dire.’

Information was his currency, and the news was grim. The Jespain Empire and the Hildran Kingdom were preparing for war against the Tower of Blazing Flames. With Daphne Philiain dead and the tower’s location compromised, a massive expedition was inevitable. The Demon King was clearly liquidating assets to prepare for the coming storm.

‘I am bound by contract,’ Aman thought. ‘I have no choice but to follow.’ Despite the loss of his Aura Hall, his gratitude for the Demon King saving his family’s legacy outweighed his lingering bitterness. He would support the tower with everything he had. And if the Demon King fell, Aman would simply disappear into the life of a commoner.

‘Still, gathering these items will be a nightmare,’ he sighed. He needed to find a specific type of person—someone capable of scouring the continent, attending high-stakes auctions, and negotiating every copper.

A name came to mind.

“Is someone there?” Aman called out.

“Yes, sir.”

“Go and bring me Jetson.”

He needed one of the silver-tongued experts the Demon King had placed within his ranks—a master of the deal.

—

“The Hero Guild declined?”

“They did.”

While Berge was busy contemplating how to make his tower mobile, Hillun Kagil had returned to the Hildran capital for a secret meeting with the King.

“Give me the details,” the King demanded.

“The guild offered support for the heroes, but their motives are selfish,” Hillun explained. “They want to use the subjugation of the Demon King to distract from the scandal of Daphne Philiain’s death.”

In the past, Hillun might have agreed to the partnership. He didn’t care about fame or guild politics anymore. However, the King of Hildran didn’t want a crusade; he wanted his daughter back.

‘The guild wants pawns for a war. I won’t play that game,’ Hillun thought. He was an Argon of the guild, but first, he was a man of Hildran. Without guild backing, a rescue was harder, but he had to find a middle ground without surrendering to their agenda.

The negotiations had been a failure. The guild wouldn’t offer full military support without a formal expedition force, and they viewed Hildran’s focus on a single princess as a distraction.

“So we gained nothing?” the King asked.

“I have secured twenty-one heroes, along with the Red Hawk unit,” Hillun reported. These were warriors who followed him out of personal loyalty and respect. They were elite, but few in number.

“I will provide two hundred mercenaries,” the King stated. “And I will hide the Azure Sea Knight Order and the Sea Dragon Mage Corps among them.”

“Is that a safe move?” Hillun asked. Armies were rarely used in tower raids because they were often seen as a precursor to an invasion of neighboring lands. This was why the Empire had sought a coalition for the Tower of Blazing Flames search—to ensure no one suspected a power grab.

“If this is discovered, the diplomatic fallout for Hildran would be catastrophic,” Hillun warned.

“You think I have done nothing since Ernyan was taken?” the King countered. He had forged a secret agreement with Corzen. “The deal is struck. In exchange for what I’ve conceded, Corzen will turn a blind eye to our knights and mages. For a man of your skill, Hillun, that should be enough.”

“…It is a significant force,” Hillun admitted.

“I need a guarantee.”

Hillun thought it over. Rescuing the princess wasn’t the hard part—he was already working with the Demon King. The difficulty was the optics. If he saved her alone, people would suspect him of being a traitor. But with forty heroes and hundreds of troops, it would look like a hard-fought victory. If they “happened” to find her on the lower floors, no one would question the miracle.

‘And besides,’ Hillun noted, ‘the cover of “mercenaries” is thin.’ International spies would see through it, but with Corzen’s cooperation, it wouldn’t matter.

“I will bring the Crown Princess home,” Hillun declared. The stage was set, and he would play his part perfectly.

—

The discovery of the Tower of Blazing Flames had sent shockwaves through the Empire. They weren’t just happy to find the enemy; they were gloating over the failures of Hildran and Akan. The imperial propaganda machine was in full swing, hailing the Third Prince’s achievement to bolster national pride.

However, Martin, the prince in question, was far from celebratory as he left the imperial audience.

“I don’t understand my father’s plan,” he muttered.

“What is the issue?” his aide asked, handing him a coffee.

Martin took a sip, the bitter liquid grounding him. “Remember the plan regarding the black mage’s confession? We were supposed to focus on the true mastermind and use the tower as a rallying point for allies, not a direct target.”

That had been the foundation of Martin’s secret deal with the Demon King. He had assured the tower that the Empire wouldn’t move for total destruction yet.

“Why the shift?”

“Daphne Philiain’s death changed the calculus,” Martin explained. “The Emperor now sees the Blazing Flame Demon King as a wild card that needs to be eliminated. But if we destroy him, we lose the lead on the real enemy.”

Martin was in a corner. His connection to the Demon King was his path to the throne. He had already given up the palace secret vault plaque, and his sister Kaede was still bound by a contract. If the Demon King was pushed into a desperate fight, what would happen to her?

‘I need his assistance to become Emperor,’ Martin realized. He didn’t need a miracle, just the subtle advantages the Demon King could provide. He had to stop this expedition, or at least stall it.

“I need to speak with Brother Floyan,” Martin said, standing up.

—

Back at the tower, Berge was preparing a “welcome” for Hillun Kagil.

“The plan is simple: return Ernyan quickly to satisfy Hildran, then get back to our real work,” Berge decided. His wild idea of a walking tower had to remain a secret from the humans.

“You’re kicking me out already?” Ernyan teased.

“Don’t start,” Berge sighed, ignoring her grin. “We can’t just let them walk in—that looks suspicious. We have to resist just enough to make it believable.”

“A choreographed fight,” she nodded.

“Exactly. Krutu!”

“Yes, my King!” the orc responded.

“When the humans arrive, lead the monsters in an assault. Keep it controlled. Nothing they can’t handle.”

“Understood.”

“And leave markings on the walls—shortcuts to the upper floors. Hillun knows what to look for.”

Berge continued issuing orders to everyone from Gordon to the lowest minions. The atmosphere in the tower was one of intense preparation.

“There is no room for error,” Berge warned his subjects. “Failure is not an option.”

“Yes, Sire!” they shouted in unison.

The Tower of Blazing Flames was ready for its “invaders.”

Well, almost everyone was ready.

“You want me to take my masterpieces—the work of my life—and turn them into trash?” the dwarf blacksmith screamed, clutching a mana cannon. “Never! This is an insult!”