The Demon King Overrun by Heroes Novel - Chapter 33

Chapter 33
## Chapter 33: Truly Worthless

Ten units of high-grade Seniel powder. Plus, two units of the lower-quality variety.

Carrying these twelve packets of powder, Berge made his way back to his stronghold. Upon entering the ground floor, he was immediately met by Roger, the guardian spirit.

“You have returned, sir?”

“Everything remained quiet during my absence?”

“Entirely.”

“And the status of the heavy artillery?”

“I have augmented their destructive power and manufactured several additional units.”

A row of twenty magic cannons now sat in a formidable line, their muzzles trained directly on the main gates.

The sight was satisfactory.

However, the rest of the expansive hall was barren. Aside from a crude, temporary workstation tucked into a corner, the floor was an empty shell.

It was a pathetic sight for a fortress supposed to house a Demon King.

“I require you to overhaul this floor extensively,” Berge commanded.

“My resources are severely limited. This makeshift setup is all I could manage, and the tools are… well, primitive,” Roger explained.

“It sounds as though you are nudging me to go on a shopping trip.”

“Ha… perish the thought, sir.”

Berge checked his status.

**[319,092 pt]**

While he had been away, his reserves had grown significantly. This was the fruit of Hillun Kagil’s public defeat and the successful abduction of the royal heir. Though a vast majority of this would eventually be swallowed by his debts, he could afford a small investment now.

—

**⚙ SHOP ⚙**
**Hellforge – 50,000 pt**
A reproduction of a standard workshop used by the smiths of the underworld. Fully equipped with all necessary apparatus. Integrates seamlessly into the structure of the tower.

**⚙ SHOP ⚙**
**Interference Release (Lowest) – 10,000 pt**
Utilizes abyssal energy to marginally dampen the effects of dimensional friction.

—

In his previous incarnation, Berge had never bothered with summoning a forge. Back then, every point of demonic energy had been funneled into breaking dimensional barriers or calling forth legions of monsters.

**⚙ SHOP ⚙**
**Balrog – 5,000,000 pt**

**⚙ SHOP ⚙**
**Hydra – 10,000,000 pt**

There was a time when Balrogs were common sights in his ranks. Now, such power was an unattainable fantasy. If there was one thing he truly missed from his past life, it was the sheer abundance of monstrous subordinates.

He opted to purchase five of the lowest-tier interference releases.

**⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙**
**Dimensional interference has been partially neutralized.**

The shift was subtle. He simply felt he could draw breath a bit more easily. It felt like a meager gain for the cost, but since demonic energy was notoriously inefficient at fighting the laws of dimensions, he accepted the loss.

**⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙**
**Deploying Hellforge. Location: 1st Floor.**

The entire tower groaned and shuddered. Roger stumbled, trying to keep his feet as the stone beneath them churned. From the very floorboards, the workshop manifested.

It was a place of extremes: a furnace that roared with violent intensity, a glacier brought from the demon realm that radiated a bone-chilling frost, and a collection of master-crafted tools.

**⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙**
**The Hellforge is automatically hidden from any individual entering without the Demon King’s authorization.**

Roger stared, wide-eyed, at the Hellforge which had materialized directly over the top of his old, flimsy workbench.

“What… what is this magic…?”

“This should provide the environment you need,” Berge said.

“I can actually use this?”

“I am not just asking for more cannons. Redesign this entire floor. Make it a death trap designed to wipe out any hero who dares step inside.”

“With pleasure!”

Roger let out a shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the furnace as he scrambled toward it.

“The design of this kiln is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“It utilizes bloodfire stones from the abyss,” Berge explained. “When fed demonic energy, they burn hotter than molten rock. The kiln is constructed entirely from that material. You won’t need conventional fuel; just provide the energy, and the metal will liquefy.”

“Heat generated by stone rather than flame? Incredible. And this… it feels as though it’s breathing?”

“That is the core. It contains a Freefrost—a creature that lives within glaciers. It feeds on heat and produces cold in a near-infinite cycle. It is the perfect tool for quenching blades.”

“Marvelous! This is peak craftsmanship!”

Roger wasn’t just impressed by the exotic nature of the tools. As a dwarf who had spent his life in the heat of a forge, he recognized the superior quality. Every anvil and refinery was positioned to maximize a smith’s efficiency.

“I will put my heart and soul into transforming this floor!” Roger declared, a manic grin spreading across his face.

Berge watched him for a moment. *He’ll be fine,* he thought. The dwarf had already proven he could terrorize hero parties with simple cannons; given these tools, he would be a menace. Berge was beginning to understand Roger: he was a zealot for his craft. Give him the right toys, and his loyalty was absolute.

Berge ascended to the second floor. It remained a void.

*How to utilize this space?* In the past, he would have just packed it with monsters or turned it into a confusing labyrinth. That wasn’t a terrible plan. A group of heroes, already rattled by the cannons on the first floor, would enter the second expecting more gimmicks. If they found a traditional, monster-infested gauntlet instead, the change in pace would drain their focus.

He moved up to the third floor. If the second was empty, the third was a distant concern.

Finally, he reached the fourth floor. He was greeted by the sharp whistle of displaced air. A shimmering blade cut through the space toward him, trailing a golden aura. It was a formidable strike—under different circumstances, it might have actually drawn blood.

*Clang!*

Berge caught the blade, the golden energy shattering upon impact. Kaede, her weapon trapped, let out a frustrated sound.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Despicable Demon King!” she hissed.

Berge shoved her back. She tumbled across the floor, recovered her footing, and lunged again. Losing his patience, Berge delivered a swift strike to the base of her skull, sending her into unconsciousness.

“I warned her not to try it,” Ernyan remarked, watching from the side.

“You clearly didn’t try hard enough.”

“I did. She just accused me of being a traitor for cooperating with you instead of trying to escape.”

Berge didn’t have an answer for that. “Try to keep her in line.”

“I’m doing my best.”

Berge tossed her the bag containing the Seniel powder.

“High-grade? And ten of them? What are these other two?”

“Substandard powder. I acquired them at no cost.”

“I appreciate it. I honestly expected you to bring back far less.”

“I prefer not to make multiple trips. Will this be enough for you to form a pact with a high-tier spirit?”

“I’ll have to see.”

Berge decided to address a technical curiosity. “To summon a high-tier spirit, your prowess must have grown. However, spirits and this tower are fundamentally incompatible.”

The tower lacked natural mana, and spirits thrived on it. The demonic energy saturating the air was the antithesis of a spirit’s nature.

“You’re right. But the scarcity actually helped. Because mana was so rare, I had to learn how to use every drop with perfect precision. My control has never been better. That medicine you provided also played a part.”

Ernyan kept the rest to herself. She didn’t feel the need to explain how the constant exhaustion of her mana reserves had forced her body to finally absorb the lingering power of the elixir. Even if he was a decent host, he was still the enemy.

“I understand,” Berge said with a nod. “But do not mistake a spirit pact for a ticket out of here.”

“I won’t.”

“If you attempt to flee and fail, you lose everything. There are no second chances.”

“Nobody tries to cross the Erjest range with just one high-tier spirit,” she replied.

“You are responsible for the girl. If she disappears, you pay the price.”

“That’s hardly fair. I’m the most cooperative person you have.”

“Shared liability,” Berge stated flatly. “Have you checked on Peltor?”

“Not yet. I plan to scout the area and finish the job soon.”

“I see. Good luck.”

Berge waved her off and climbed to the fifth floor. He walked through the silent throne room and entered the administrative wing. There, he found Gordon, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, buried under a mountain of scrolls.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, Lord Demon King. Please excuse my lack of a proper welcome; I am buried in work,” Gordon said, his eyes never leaving the parchment.

“Work?”

“Did you not command me to find a way to bring ruin to that individual, Jetoson?”

“Ah, yes. I did.”

He had originally intended for Granada to do it, but he’d seen Gordon idling and gave him the task instead.

“Have you found a solution?”

“Not quite yet, but it’s coming. No—I will *make* it happen.”

“There is no rush.”

“There is!” Gordon snapped. “I, Gordon, the valedictorian of the Demon Aide Academy, will not allow myself to be branded as incompetent! I will restore my honor!”

*Incompetent? I never called him that,* Berge thought, frowning.

But as he reflected, Gordon wasn’t entirely wrong. Granada was out forming a military force. Ernyan had proven her worth against Hillun Kagil. Meanwhile, Gordon had done nothing but offer unsolicited advice from the sidelines. He had been a net loss until recently.

“Well, looking at your track record so far… you haven’t been very useful.”

“I will prove my worth!”

“Fine. Do that.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Berge retreated to his private office and slumped into his chair to weigh his options. “Kidnapping more royalty immediately might be overkill…” Doing so too quickly would draw too much unwanted attention. “Ah, the Elves.”

He remembered his plan to purchase the enslaved Elves to serve as his shock troops. However, the 100,000 gold needed for that was currently with Hillun Kagil.

Suddenly, his communication orb began to glow.

“Speaking of the devil. I was just about to call you.”

It was Hillun Kagil.

“You wanted to speak with me?”

“The Elves. I want you to buy every single one available on the slave market.”

“The Elves? Like what Granada is doing?”

“Exactly.”

“Then the timing is perfect,” Hillun Kagil said. “I have news.”

“What is it?”

“Aman Katrashu has returned to his family home. He has performed a public act of contrition, and the head of the house has granted him an official pardon. He is now the designated successor.”

“Is that so?” Berge smirked. This was a major chess piece moved into position for his conquest.

“Wasn’t he considered a hopeless failure? It seems strange they would forgive him so readily, even if he is the only heir.”

“You forget who I am. Despite a minor setback, my word still carries weight. Furthermore, I provided a significant financial ‘investment’ to the family, making it clear that my support was contingent on my trust in Aman Katrashu.”

It made sense. Regardless of his past, he was the sole heir, and his crippled state meant the family had limited options. With a legendary hero like Hillun Kagil vouching for him and putting up the gold, the family had every reason to welcome him back. It was a masterstroke.

“Very well done.”

“I will pass your instructions to him. I’ll keep you informed of any developments.”

“Proceed.”

Berge felt a sense of satisfaction. Things were progressing smoothly.

“The silence from the Heroes’ Guild is the only thing that concerns me…”

Even in his previous life, they were slow to act until the situation became dire. It was only after several kingdoms fell that the heroes swarmed him in a tide that eventually killed him. So, there was still a window of time. Humans were always bogged down by their own internal squabbles and politics.

He would have to ask Hillun for more details later. He also needed to investigate the hero with the crimson sword—the one who had dealt the final blow in his past life.

Berge leaned back, letting the quiet of the office settle over him.

—

The failure to stop the Demon King.
The failure to bring the princess home.

The Kingdom of Hildran, which had funded the mission alongside the Heroes’ Guild, was in a state of high tension. Initially, when Wharton Color returned with a decimated party and nothing to show for it, there was still a flicker of hope among the nobility.

“Wharton Color was never a true hero.”

“He lost the princess and couldn’t even find the enemy’s base before running away.”

“We still have Hillun Kagil. He is a warrior of a completely different caliber.”

The King’s advisors had spent their time mocking Wharton Color, desperately clinging to the belief that Hillun Kagil would succeed where others failed.

“Your Majesty! Hillun Kagil has returned! It was a disaster—an absolute failure!”

The news that even the great Hillun Kagil had failed was a crushing blow.

“…Where is he now?” the King asked.

“He is currently holding a press conference in the Asoin Principality.”

Asoin was a member of the Traparta Alliance.

“The arrogance!” one minister shouted. “He took our gold, failed his duty, and now he holds court elsewhere? He should be here, on his knees, begging for Your Majesty’s mercy!”

The room erupted into a chorus of demands for justice.

“Your Majesty! This cannot go unpunished! We must bring Hillun Kagil here to face the consequences of his failure!”

“He must be held accountable!”

“He will be,” the King replied, his voice cold as ice. “Contact the Asoin Principality immediately. Dispatch our knights to bring Hillun Kagil back to us.”

“Your Majesty,” one elder statesman interjected, “it is the tradition to show leniency toward heroes. If we punish those who risk their lives against the Demon King, who will be left to fight for Hildran?”

“I have been patient enough!” the King roared, silencing the room. “The princess is the soul of this kingdom. She is our future. I would have been within my rights to march my entire army into the frozen wastes to find her myself! But I waited. I followed ‘tradition’ because I believed that Hillun Kagil would bring her back!”

The King’s breathing was heavy with rage. “And what is the result? Is this the outcome we were promised?”

“Your Majesty…”

“If any of you understood what she means to me, you wouldn’t ask me to wait any longer. The fact that I haven’t already mobilized for war is proof of my restraint.”

“The Heroes’ Guild will not take this lightly.”

“Are you a servant of Hildran or a lackey for the Guild? Do you fear that collection of mercenaries more than your own King?”

The advisor went silent.

“Do not delay! Send the Chaing Knights to apprehend that hero. If he refuses to come quietly, use whatever force is necessary!”

“As you command, Your Majesty!”

One of the five elite knight orders of the Hildran Kingdom was mobilized, setting out for the Traparta Alliance.