Chapter 2

A Clash Rekindled: Suppose Two Rivals for a Girl’s Hand Wound Up at the Same Reunion

“So? What is it?”

In the lobby of the laboratory…

The sun was higher in the sky, and there were more people entering and exiting the facility. Seta had hit up the cooler for some water and brought that back to Ishikura.

“What is what?” Ishikura’s eyes gleamed.

Seta certainly found that daunting, but he made like a gossip reporter chasing a slip of the tongue. “Don’t give me that. You started to say something earlier! Your personal take on the meteor thing.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking a nap? Getting yourself in shape for the meeting this afternoon?”

“How can I sleep now? It’s like reading a novel in bed, but I can’t find a good stopping point. Don’t leave me tossing and turning, Director!”

“You could spare yourself this grief by staying home! No more cabarets!”

Seta shook his head, like cabaret was a mission from god.

“Anything but that, Director! I can’t turn my back on them now! Tony’s after the same girl I am! He came in the other day going, ‘I got us the Dom Pérignon, baby!’ How am I supposed to sit at home after hearing that?”

“…………………”

“Rumor has it she might bake you cookies! I mean, I’m sure that’s just to butter us up, but…!”

“…………”

Ishikura’s stony silence was clearly making him uncomfortable, and Seta was starting to foam at the mouth.

“Don’t give me that look! She’s got a sick brother! She didn’t want Tony’s Dom Pérignon; she had no choice but to accept it for her brother’s sake! I’m sure! Mostly! It broke her heart! I mean, she said she loves me, so…!”

“…………………”

“I—I see the pity in your eyes! For her, I assume? That poor girl working herself to the bone for her sick brother!”

“…No, it’s you I pity.”

Few things more pathetic than a man duped—hook, line, and sinker—for the first scam that came to mind when you thought about nighttime entertainment.

“But enough about me! What were you about to say?”

“For Pete’s sake,” Ishikura muttered—like a parent being pestered to read a picture book out loud. “Once again, this is a personal concern. Don’t spread it around.”

“My lips are sealed! Don’t worry.” Seta threw out a thumbs-up, which earned him an exasperated sigh.

“It’s just a feeling,” Ishikura began. “I worry the meteor thing isn’t about rare metals but the very act of summoning meteors.”

“Uh…for what?” Seta slumped like the wind had left his sails. He’d clearly been braced for something far juicier.

“Is it that hard to grasp?” Ishikura grumbled. “Certainly, if these meteors increase our supply of rare metals, that alone would be a valuable resource. It would help transform this small developing country into an energy superpower.”

“Right—and help prevent global warming.”

Ishikura hesitated to say the next part. “However, if we don’t get any rare metals and find out they’re just rocks…well, that can still lead to profit.”

“How? They’re rocks.”

The director kept on eye on their surroundings, picking his words carefully. He leaned across the table like he was sharing a secret. “Think about it. We can make rocks fall from the sky without warning. With more research, we’ll probably be able to pinpoint the location, time, and size.”

Seta gulped, finally catching Ishikura’s drift.

“Oh,” he said. “If you put it that way, it’s a weapon the rival of any intercontinental ballistic missile.”

Ishikura nodded quietly. “A weapon only our country is capable of producing. Cost performance and environmental impact are both green. And it’s a meteor. We could argue it was just a natural disaster.”

Seta was starting to feel like he’d been sucked into a vast conspiracy. He nervously loosened his tie.

“And if other countries suspect something and try to pass judgment…the other research projects can take care of that,” Ishikura continued.

“Biological restoration and probability manipulation…both certainly effective in war.”

“And if they bring down economic sanctions, the rainfall experiments will secure our water supply, and we’re even researching crops that can be harvested on a monthly basis.”

“If we can harvest wheat and soy once a month, we can survive even isolated from the rest of the world. Research meant to end world hunger can also…”

“Be countermeasures if the world turns against us.”

Seta leaned back against the couch, laughing. “Ha-ha-ha, some wild theories, for sure. But do we really think the president is thinking that far ahead?”

“Well, I admit I’m being a bit paranoid… Don’t rat me out, okay? Neither of us will be let off with an apology in writing.”

“I won’t; I promise… Geez, you gave me a fright! Now I’ll never sleep.”

“Do try… Let’s hope it’s just my nerves talking,” he muttered.

The foot traffic in the lobby was steadily rising. His whisper was drowned out by the din.

The Ascorbic Domain—a river in the Kyounin clan’s territory.

Clear water flowing down from the Sacred Mountains glittered in the sunlight.

The cadets from Azami were standing on the bank, swinging wooden practice swords.

The third day of their training. Lloyd had let one of those swords go flying and destroyed a landmark mountain; Phyllo had accidentally mowed down a beautiful bamboo thicket; a half-naked forty-something named Tiger had assaulted them; and one of the girls had lost her damn mind and nearly destroyed the entire temple complex. But they’d overcome it all, and the looks on their faces were newly robust—arguably.

With them around, the Kyounin clan would dominate in the Sacred Mountain Rite, securing Anzu’s position as Domain leader for another four years. Good job, Anzu!

“Gotta look at it that way, or I’ll be too sad to continue…”

Yeah, it was mostly wishful thinking. Anzu had seen tourist attractions, her own base, and her own mind pushed to the brink of collapse.

Her own students had been poisoned, and she’d brought in Lloyd and the other cadets to help win—but they’d proven to be uncontrollable loose cannons, reducing her to a hapless mess. If she lost the throne as well, then it would all be for nothing.

“Gotta protect that at all costs. Gotta protect the secrets of that shrine. Which means I gotta focus on this training. Right. Good! Your swings are all improving!”

Praise was important. Anzu kept a close eye on their progress, shouting encouragement.

After a while, Riho paused, raising a hand. “Um, Lady Anzu…?” she said.

“What’s up, Riho? Tired already?”

“That’s not it, no. It’s just…” She searched for the right word.

“Don’t, Riho. You can’t neglect your fundamentals. The key to training is to put your feet on the ground and enjoy the grind.”

“Oh, I know that. But, uh, when you say ground…?”

Riho made a face, then glanced at the skies above.

“Come, now! You’ve got that wind wrapped around yourself, but if you can’t control it at this altitude, it means nothing!”

“Yes, Satan! Hahhhh!”

Bam, bam, bam! Pow! Thwack! (And other midair battle noises.)

“Aerial combat comes from all directions! Blows from any course! There is no up and down! You know what that means, Lloyd? You’ve gotta be conscious of your core!”

Shwsh! Snap! Shpp! Bash! (Sounds of Lloyd receiving blows from all directions.)

“Take advantage of the open air, vary your speed, and attack! Can you keep up with me?”

“I’ll try! Hahhhh!”

Vrooooom! (Noises as Satan and Lloyd fly around like dogfighting airplanes.)

Tearing her eyes from the view above, Riho tried to talk to Anzu again. “With them flying around, it’s really hard to focus on training.”

“Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Riho. I can’t see a thing!”

Ka-piiiiiiiiiing!

“That noise sounded nuts! Like someone unleashing a beam attack.”

“I didn’t hear a thing.”

Satan and Lloyd had their feet way off the ground, and their aerial combat was so spectacular, Riho couldn’t stop staring. Selen, Phyllo, and Marie were all looking up, too…like they were at a fireworks display.

Meanwhile, Anzu was firmly refusing to raise her eyes above the horizon line. Preserving her mental equanimity by steadfastly refusing to allow this insane training to cross her eyeballs.

Her smile was definitely on the frozen side.

Riho tried again. “Um, Lady An—”

“I see nothing, and I hear nothing. Nobody is training with a demon lord in the skies above. Everything above us is a work of fiction!”

The words were starting to tumble out with a hint of panic. Her mind would not last long at this rate.

“I get it, but maybe it’s time you start to process the truth. Mm?”

Someone had jumped into the thick of the battle above.

Shnk! A shock wave rocketed toward Satan.

“Whoa!”

It just barely missed his nose. He glanced at the source.

“…So close,” Phyllo hissed, hands raised…and glowing. Phyllo’s new ultimate attack—shock waves generated from her karate chops.

“Phyllo?!”

“…It’s not fair only Master gets to train.”

Phyllo was sulking. Events the day before had banished her concerns, and her movements were sharper than ever before. She was hungry to see how well she could do against a demon lord. Imagine you’d just bought a new move in a game and couldn’t wait to try it out.

Seeing her unable to stand idly by, Satan beckoned. “Two against one? You’re on! Man, I never thought I’d be spewing cheesy lines like a manga character…”

Satan’s character kept slipping; now he was like an older teen playing with the neighborhood children.

““Thanks!”” Lloyd and Phyllo shouted.

Satan touched down on earth, raised his hands, and waggled his wrists. “Come at me.”

Seta was very into this, it seemed.

Both his opponents lunged forward. Pow! Thwack! Bam, bam, bam!

“They’re both ridiculous. Practicing with a demon lord…”

“Sheesh, will no one restore sanity to the world?”

Marie and Riho exchanged grins. This was the ultimate fight, the climax of a battle manga—and it was right here in front of them. Anzu, meanwhile, had her hands over her ears and her eyes closed. “La-la-la! I can’t hear you!” The holy training ground’s secret menu item, “Practice Session with a Demon Lord,” had proved too much for the Domain’s leader to handle.

Lloyd and Phyllo were working together perfectly, battering Satan with an awesome combo.

“Here I go!”

“………Mm!”

The unrelenting flurry came at him from back, front, left, and right.

“Ohhh! This is pretty rough…!”

When Satan tried to leap backward, Phyllo’s shock waves gave chase.

“Uh!”

This earned her an actual grunt.

“Keep the pressure on!”

While Satan was blocking the shock waves, Lloyd rocketed forward, wreathed in Aero, closing the gap. Fantastic teamwork.

Satan was on his heels. Even a demon lord must be suffering—nope, he was grinning, watching his students like an uncle seeing how much his niece and nephew had grown.

“Great work! So good—I’m gonna show you one of my moves!” With that, Satan dropped into his shadow.

Phyllo’s eyes went wide, and she quickly scanned her surroundings.

“Phyllo, at your feet!” Lloyd yelled.

“……! Below me?!” Phyllo saw a hand reaching out from the shadows under her.

“Hah!” She swung a fist down toward it, but…

“That’s a feint.” Satan snatched his hand back and popped out of the shadows behind Lloyd. “You thought I wasn’t after you, Lloyd?”

“Oh n— Aughh!”

Satan grabbed Lloyd by the scruff of his neck and chucked him at Phyllo. A high throw.

“Master! Nn?!”

When her eyes turned up to follow Lloyd…Satan attacked from the shadows at her feet.

“You’re both vulnerable to grappling, I see!”

“……No!”

As Phyllo toppled off balance, Lloyd plummeted toward her…

““Gah!””

And they both went down together.

Satan clapped his hands like a teacher calling for attention. “Right, time for a quick break. Lloyd, you’re getting the hang of using that wind. Your new move is officially called…Wind Cloak.”

“Wind…what?” Lloyd blinked. Clearly, he hadn’t heard the name before.

“Yes, the perfect name for a move that channels wind magic to take flight! Really has that light-novel feel!”

“There are ‘light’ novels?”

“Just assume it means ‘really cool.’ Ha-ha-ha. If you master Wind Cloak, then the ultimate move we were practicing yesterday won’t be too far off!”

“The ultimate… Okay! I’ll try real hard!”

Phyllo was still stuck under him. “…Demon lords are strong.”

“Waugh, sorry, Phyllo! I’ll get off you!”

“……Mm.” Her face was a bit red.

“I didn’t expect the shock waves from your hands!” Satan praised. “But I do think that move itself is still controlling you.”

“……Right.”

“I assume you just learned it? Best thing to do is bring it into battle after battle, making it yours.”

“……Right.” She bowed her head.

Riho turned to Anzu with a smirk. “Yo, Anzu. This demon lord’s stealing your role! Who’s the leader of the holy training grounds now?”

“I can’t hear you!”

She was too busy escaping reality to notice Satan approaching.

“What is she doing?” he asked.

“…Best to leave her alone. Can you blame her?”

“Fair. I’ve never been good at cheering up sad women… I’m more the type to be saddened by them. Men are easier! I know a place that can cheer any man up!”

“Wh-where? Sounds like magic!” Lloyd said, eyes glittering.

Satan leered like a bad influence. “Well, Lloyd, it’s called a caba—”

“Caba?”

“……Hngg. Sorry, the rest is all hazy. It’s like… My instincts are preventing me from remembering.”

Satan still wasn’t entirely himself. Once again, he stuck his fingers in his hairdo, scratching the back of his head.

Someone else was watching Satan from a distance.

“Is that…? I feel like I’ve seen that demon lord before…”

It was Vritra. Currently possessing the cursed belt, he was moving the buckle like a snake’s head, following Satan’s every movement.

“Hmm, he seems so familiar… The demon lord of the night? Where have I heard that be— Gah!”

As he was mid-thought, Selen gave him a yank. “Vritra! No slacking! We’ve gotta make up for our failures this morning! Everyone’s working hard, and we must be there for them!”

Guilt over her morning rampage meant Selen was, for once, dedicating herself to supporting the others. She was prepping wet towels and drinks like a sports team manager…and dragging Vritra along in her wake, fuming at him.

“I’m not slacking!” he wailed. “Also, this was originally your—”

“No excuses! I’m going to apologetically dedicate myself to this task until Lloyd notices!”

It seemed her guilt and regret came hand in hand with ulterior motives. Selen was still…Selen.

“Mwah! I’m trying to remember, but just…can’t! What is this?”

Still bothered by his faint memories, Vritra buckled down to do Selen’s bidding.

While Selen and her belt were doing their bit, Marie had seized her chance to lavish Lloyd in compliments.

“You’re really something, Lloyd! Most people can’t fight like that! You’re really impressing me!”

“Yeah,” Riho chimed in. “That was some high-level fighting!”

The reason they’d come here in the first place was to get Lloyd some confidence and help him realize his own strength. They were so invested in that outcome that they were being more than a little phony.

“Y-yeah?” Lloyd said, rattled by this.

Riho crossed her fingers that this would help him see the light. “Yeah, normal people can’t fly, Lloyd. I can’t even believe I’m saying that!”

Being raised in Kunlun had given him inflated expectations and self-esteem issues, which made him eternally humble.

“I can only do it a short time, and the chief can fly for days, so I’m barely getting started.”

“Oh, Chief Alka…right.”

“………That kid grandma really oughtta rein it in a little.”

Lloyd’s standards were based on the most superhuman of all superhumans, and that made it hard to argue with. When you had to start by convincing someone that flight wasn’t a normal human activity, it was hard to stay motivated.

They may not have managed to make him realize his own strength, but he did seem significantly more confident.

“But I’m feeling more sure of myself!” he stated. “Wind Cloak isn’t my only new move! Watch this!”

With a grin, he demonstrated his new technique like a gentle breeze. A very small Aero.

“Um…what was that?”

“Aero! I can control it now!”

That’s it? they thought, but he seemed very satisfied.

“I’ve been wanting to do this awhile! Seemed like a great way to dry my hair faster! Or sweep up the leaves in the fall! A little gust of wind to gather them all in the corner would make the job so much easier! This alone makes it worth the trip the Ascorbic Domain!”

His childish glee put a smile on both girls’ faces.

“Heh-heh.”

“Well, that is very Lloyd.”

He would forever place housework first, and that sure did warm their hearts.

“It’s a little thing, but if I keep making steps like this, someday I’ll be the kind of soldier who can protect everyone!”

A little Aero was a big step for Lloyd.

His new teacher, Satan, seemed thoroughly pleased. “Hard to believe he doesn’t know his own strength, but glad to see he’s got a little confidence now. What the heck is Alka teaching him? She never was exactly the mentor type, but…”

Satan shook his head, thinking of his absent colleague.

“……” Marie was staring fixedly at him.

This demon lord was very human—nothing like the others she’d encountered. The doubt in her mind was strong enough she had to ask: “So…are you really a demon lord?”

“Um, I guess so?” Satan replied. That seemed significant.

Marie’s fingers clenched on the ends of her sleeves. She picked her next words carefully.

“I’ve met a number of demon lords…but you seem far more human than them. Like…you are a human.”

“I met you back in Kunlun,” Riho said. “And you were super demon lord–esque then. What happened?”

He laughed at the word demon lord–esque but didn’t seem sure how to respond…like a dad whose kid has just asked him an awkward question.

“I guess something did happen. I dunno if you’ll believe it, though. Sure you want to know?”

“If you don’t mind sharing.”

“You see, I was once—” But before he could say another word…

“Mwa-ha-ha! I’ll be back! Glutes and hamstrings!”

A very sweaty voice echoed from above. All eyes turned toward the cliff.

“Gah, him again?” Riho scowled.

Oblivious to the extremely unwelcoming vibe, Tiger Nexamic kept posing. “Before their very eyes, they beheld a physical specimen no less magnificent than the great cat itself! It was none other than the leader of the Tiger clan, famed for his throbbing hamstrings—Tiger Nexamic (age forty-three)!”

“Why is he narrating?”

“Gazing rapturously at the sight of this glorious body, they desired it for themselves…!”

“No rapturing here!”

“Aw,” Nexamic said, then jumped down off the cliff. “No audience participation? You could at least hear me out. I had a whole Tiger Heart Haiku planned!”

“You could bribe me in gold, and I still wouldn’t listen to them.”

Coming from Riho, that was a lot. He really grinded her gears.

“Anyway, what’s up, everyone? It’s me! Tiger Nexamic!”

The other day, he’d shown up to challenge the contingent from Azami—with an eye on securing his victory in the Sacred Mountain Rite. None of them had expected him to show up again this quick.

“……Back for more? Already?”

Phyllo was ready to fight—she’d been the one who drove him off last time.

“Now, now.” He gestured to placate her. “Tiger Stop! I would love another go sometime, but not today! Also because these are my favorite short tights, and I don’t want you slicing them up with your sharpy sharp chops.”

“……You have favorites…”

“And Renge was furious with me over the exposure and spillage. It was an unfortunate accident, but she bore eye witness to the open house, and the imagery was burned into her brain. I doubt she slept a wink!”

All of this was definitely in the too-much-information category, and the speech ended with a red-faced Renge attacking him from behind. “Shuuuuudduuup! Don’t remind me!”

“Oh, there you are, Renge! You’re letting the accent slip again.”

“…My, how inelegant of me. I must recover with some tea.”

Renge began unpacking her tea set from the box on her back. Satan seemed to find this fascinating.

“Oh? Is that real tea? This world has black tea! I used to always prefer that over coffee. Really takes me back.”

Renge noticed him staring and frowned. “Who is this spiky-haired gentleman? A new ringer from the Kyounin clan? Ogling someone is far from elegant.”

It never occurred to her that he simply hadn’t seen tea in hundreds of years.

Anzu finally stopped wailing “I can’t hear anything” long enough to notice their arrival. She came over.

“Why are you here, Renge? The Kyounin clan is busy doing last-minute training for the Sacred Mountain Rite tomorrow!”

“Yet, you appeared to be hunched over with your hands over your ears. I assume those wails were because you know you can’t win?”

“That wouldn’t make me wail. I was…engaged in philosophical thought about the nature of man and the divide between species.”

It did not seem like the interlopers had witnessed the aerial combat. If they had, they wouldn’t be casually narrating or having tea.

“So? How many times are you planning on barging in?” Anzu growled.

Renge didn’t bat an eye and just poured herself some tea. “I would vastly prefer to spend no time in the company of a traitor without an elegant bone in her body. But a certain someone insisted on making a declaration of war, and so we led him here.”

“A certain someone? Who might that be?”

“Mwa-ha-ha! He’s got a lot to lay on you! Make ’em weep, boy!” Nexamic waved his arms like the host of a variety show, calling out…

“H-hi, Lloyd and everyone else… Sorry I just disappeared.”

Allan poked his head out from behind a rock, looking highly guilty.

Riho’s bad mood got visibly worse. “Oh, the idiot who’ll run off with literally any woman.”

“Don’t put it like that! That was an accident! A misunderstanding! Hngg…”

He’d been so seasick that he hadn’t realized he was going to the enemy camp, and he was more ashamed of that than anyone.

“Yes! He wasn’t lured by Renge’s wiles! But by the harmony of muscle upon muscle! That’s your point, right?”

“Our eyes met, and it felt explosive! This is no misunderstanding but destiny! That’s your point, right?”

Nexamic and Renge were both very good at interpreting things to suit their purposes.

“Uh, can we move on to the topic at hand? Are you back now, Allan?” Lloyd seemed worried.

Allan looked emotional. Only Lloyd was genuinely concerned for his well-being.

“L-Lloyd, truth is…”

“Mwa-ha-ha! Allan accompanied us because he has words for you! Listen to them!”

“Let me say them!”

“Come, Sir Allan! Declaring war? Demanding surrender? Choose whichever you like—just make it elegant!”

“Not much of a choice! No, no, no, what I want to say is—”

Eug was behind all of this.

He didn’t know her whole plan, but it clearly involved demon lords. To prove it, he’d allowed Surtr to possess his ax, and he’d quite like to come back to them. He had so much he wanted to say, his head was spinning like a new employee delivering his first report to an uncompromising boss.

Spotting this, Lloyd kept his question gentle. He had the makings of a very good manager.

“What’s going on, Allan? You don’t really want to fight us, do you?”

“N-no, not at all! Truth is…”

Before he could mention Dr. Eug’s involvement…

Rooooooarrr!

“Aughhhh?!?!?!?!”

““““““Huh?!””””””

The ax at Allan’s hip—the one possessed by Surtr—had suddenly let out a growl, and a column of flames had rocketed toward Satan, leaving a groove in the earth and a fire burning before his friends’ eyes. A blast of heat hit their faces, evaporating all the sweat.

“F-firrreeeee?! Huh? Why?!” Allan himself received the shock of his life. He glared down at the demon lord. “Why’d you start a fire, Surtr? That’s not what we agreed to! You said you’d help explain the situation!”

But the demon lord wasn’t listening. He was very worked up.

“That spiky hairdo! You must pay! My mortal enemy… Prepare to die!”

His voice was a guttural snarl. All that fury aimed squarely at Satan.

“You set him on fire for having spiky hair?! That’s not exactly an uncommon look!”

Nexamic and Renge were momentarily taken aback by this rain of fire, which was clearly not a human-level attack. Definitely demon lord level. But it didn’t take long before…

“Mwa-ha-ha! Sir Allan does it again! You had a skill like the legendary demon lords up your sleeve?”

“Only one word for it: magnificent! Elegance demands you strike the first blow.”

…the two chiefs accepted it wholeheartedly. They really raised interpreting events in their favor to an art form.

“See? Now everyone’s getting weird ideas!”

Meanwhile, the Azami crew were taken aback by the sudden attack…and confused by the sheer strength behind it.

“What the hell? You turning on us?”

“Should we sue him? Take him for every penny he’s got?”

“Allan? Did we push you to the brink? I thought you’d accepted your role in the party!”

“……Why is a muscle-brain casting magic? Makes no sense.”

Being them, they mostly reacted with scorn.

“Wh-what’s going on, Allan?” Lloyd asked, rattled.

“……Step back, Lloyd,” Satan warned. He’d easily dodged the attack and stepped forward, raising a hand—and the flames were instantly quelled.

His face was grim. His eyes cold. The air seemed to crackle.

“Wh-what’s happening, Satan?”

“I thought I sensed hostility from him—no, from his ax. It’s possessed by a demon lord.”

“““It is?!””” They all gasped.

“Yes.” Satan nodded gravely. “I heard a faint voice—and even the way it spoke annoyed me. Assume this is the worst kind of demon lord, one that means nothing but harm to all mankind.”

This opinion was likely a bit biased, but Vritra was on the same page.

“I’m unsure of its intent, but I can vouch for it being a demon lord. And I’m sure I’ve heard that voice before. Wasn’t he from Amer—?”

Selen interrupted. “Vritra, we’re having an important conversation here. Be quiet.”

“Oh, right, sorry…hngg! I’d almost remembered, too…”

Satan watched them, frowning. “That belt reminds me of someone, but… Nah, it can’t be. He wasn’t that easily cowed. Not worth dwelling on now—this new demon lord definitely has history with me. Damn, I wish I could remember what!”

He was probably better off not knowing all this bad blood was over a cabaret girl, really.

Anyhoo, the fact that Allan had shown up with a demon lord–possessed ax was giving the contingent all sorts of weird ideas. Anzu and Marie were giving him funny looks, whispering to each other.

“I traded blows with him the other day, but that ax didn’t have any kind of ominous vibe to it then… You think it’s genuinely possessed?”

“It’s very possible, Lady Anzu. And if he’s carrying something like that—and attacking without warning…”

“I heard a second voice from his direction,” Selen offered, joining them. “They did not seem to get along as famously as Vritra and I do, but…”

Vritra let out a squeak of protest, but…a very soft one. “That is hardly an apt expression, Mistress. I would like a full explanation of this theory in writing at a later date.”

Riho ignored this line completely. “Right, right… So we can assume it isn’t just the ax—Allan himself is under the demon lord’s influence.”

“H-he is?!” Lloyd gasped.

“I could only hear fragments.” Riho began sorting through what she’d heard. “He said, ‘That’s not what we agreed!’ Which means that dummy probably made a deal and got tricked into giving up control. If he’s still able to argue with it, the demon lord hasn’t completely taken over yet.”

Allan was hardly pleased by the assumption that he’d let this happen.

“You really oughtta have more faith in me!” he wailed.

“See? Sometimes it sounds just like Allan. I’m sure he’s trying to fight back.”

His protests dismissed out of hand, Allan shut up. Clearly, he’d reached the form of nirvana that knows when it’s pointless to argue.

Phyllo shot Allan a heavy-lidded glare and took Riho’s side. “……That explains why he only showed up now. I thought it was odd those two would have such faith in Allan’s strength… They’re not blind.”

“They’ve mistaken the demon lord’s power for the skills of the fictitious dragon slayer. And they’ve been told Anzu is betraying her country… Everything’s conspired against them.”

Selen gave Renge and Nexamic a look of withering pity…and Allan the look you reserve for sidewalk puke. So that didn’t change.

Desperate to convince someone he wasn’t a demon lord, Allan called out to the one person he didn’t know.

“This is a disaster. Spiky-haired dude! I’m not a demon lord!”

“Hmm, that would suggest your Allan is still conscious.”

“I’m doomed, aren’t I?” Nothing he said would break through the wall of misunderstanding.

Given her history, Marie felt particularly sorry for him. “My father was once possessed by a demon lord. I know your pain, Allan!”

“Wh-what’s that, Marie? Wait, are you actually Prin—”

Marie cut Anzu off, nodding gravely. “For a while after the initial possession, he retained a will of his own. And that allowed him to save me—he helped me escape. And now the same thing’s happening to Allan.”

She shook her head, looking very sad.

Allan shook his head, looking even sadder. Clearly, no one was going to listen to him.

Satan was studying him closely—with a side helping of loathing directed at the ax Surtr lurked within. “That vile tongue of yours deceived this poor man? How craven.”

“If it’s possessing a weapon…what can we do about it, Satan?” Marie asked.

Satan didn’t hesitate. “It’s harsh, but roughing him up is one option. If we can get the ax out of the owner’s hands, then it’s likely—”

Faced with a beating, Allan began acting very jittery…like the culprit brought in for questioning. “Rough me up?! Come on, hear me out first! I’m—”

“You spiky-haired jerk! I’m gonna turn you all to ashes, baby!”

“Surtr?! Stop shouting over me! It makes it sound like I want that!”

But Surtr was beyond reason, and Allan didn’t know what to do.

Allan’s shrieks went in one side of the ax and out the other. Surtr’s voice rambled like a broken radio echoing lost memories.

“She was mine! You know how many times I bought Dom Pérignon for her?! I won’t let you have her!”

“Seriously, Surtr, get a grip.”

“Nooooo! You’re not taking her from meeee! Spikyyyy! Don’t you tempt heeeer! We’d held haaaands! She’d made me cookieees! We’d promised we’d get marriiiiied!”

Obsession with girls can really do that to a man—er, demon lord.

Surtr was spitting fragments of memories like a machine gun, and Satan took it all in stride.

“Hmph, cookies? She brought me back souvenirs from a trip! Proof she was thinking of me on vacation! Argh, why can’t I remember more?”

Yep, he was just as bad, really. Driven into acts of abandon by things he didn’t even fully recall.

Riho and Phyllo were whispering to each other.

“What kinda history do these demon lords share?”

“…My understanding is lessening by the moment.”

Meanwhile, Renge had gone bright red. “Wh-whaaat?” she stuttered—clearly taking Surtr’s words as Allan’s. Her brain started shaking them around, desperately searching for meaning. “You clearly love this girl… Allan loves her… That spiky-haired man does look like a home-wrecker. But that means…!”

Having leaped to the conclusion that Allan must be in love with her, she went back over his words.

“We…did hold hands! But cookies… Does he mean scones? But what was that about a promise? Wait, marriage?! When did we do that?!”

Never.

…But human brains are designed to interpret two out of three like it was fact, especially when you like the implication.

“Come to think of it, we did get rather drunk…and…lord howdy! Did I really—? I ain’t got no recollection!”

“Mwa-ha? Renge, that’s the worst accent slip yet!”

“G-gosh and golly! That does make a few things less durned confounding. He rolled outta bed all sheepish and ashamed!”

She clearly hadn’t heard a word Nexamic said. Her stream of consciousness had left her positively wriggling. As her delusions accelerated, Allan found himself unable to control Surtr’s anger any longer.

“Arghhhhhh! Just the sight of his hair makes me wanna set it on fiiiiire! It’s too spikyyyyyy!”

“Snap out of it, Surtr!” Allan yelled.

“He’s hopping mad ’cause some scallywag tried to take a pass at me—such bliss!”

“Renge, I’m getting genuinely frightened here. Can’t you see my hamstrings quivering?”

They’d swapped which of them was dumber, and Nexamic was perturbed.

Meanwhile, the crew from Azami were so sold on their possession theory that they’d started expanding it.

“It…does seem like his mind is still left. He’s arguing with the demon lord.”

“So that demon lord’s the one trying to turn us on each other, wrest control of the Domain…and that’s why it fed them a lie about me betraying everyone.”

“Just like the plot to overthrow Azami.”

“B-but…if Allan—,” Lloyd wailed. In his mind, Allan was so strong, that if this happened to him—then Lloyd didn’t stand a chance.

“Mwa-ha-ha!” Nexamic grinned, pecs wobbling. “Lloyd, I hate to drop this on you just as you’ve got a little confidence! But victory in the rite will be ours! You’ve seen Sir Allan’s power for yourself! It was a shock to all of us! If you choose to surrender, we’ll be glad to accept.”

“Sorry, Lloyd. But hol’ on to your britches, Anzu!” Renge exclaimed. “My Sir Allan’s gonna uproot your treasonous schemes!”

“Um, Renge, please…”

“Aheeemmmm! My, excuse me. What was I even saying? How mortifying.” Renge covered her lips, blushing.

Riho sensed rom-com shenanigans and frowned. “She’s got the hots for Allan? That’s gotta be the demon lord’s power. No way he’d ever do that on his own.”

“That you have faith in? I mean, you’re not wrong…”

Ignoring Allan’s self-own, Anzu gave him a look of pity. “One more goal for the rite… We’ll have to save him.”

“When he pops up, we slap him down and free him from the demon lord. Thanks for piling on the trouble, Allan.”

“As a member of the local lords, I don’t approve of you dragging our reputations down.”

“……Could be a good challenge.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

They were all fired up to save him from the demon lord’s influence, at least.

“I’m glad you want to help, but I feel like I won’t come out of it with my limbs intact…”

Meanwhile, the demon lords were really getting into it.

“……Tch, he always could talk the arm off a donkey. That’s how he Dom Pérignoned her… Argh, it’s so hazy! I can’t remember what that even is…”

“Yo! Spiky! I’m gonna reduce you to a heap of cinders! That girl’s got one destiny, and it’s with me! She’s… What was her name?”

It was really heating up. Demon lord versus demon lord: grudge match! …It sounded good, but the grudge was over some dumb shit about a cabaret girl who’d been stringing them both along, and if anyone around discovered the truth, they’d be annoyed beyond imagination.

As their argument peaked, Nexamic clapped loudly. “Let’s call that a day, shall we? Don’t want to show all our tricks off! Let’s settle this tomorrow!”

“True! Come, Allan—we must go!”

“Er, wait! No, stop… Why did it turn out like this?!”

And so the Audoc and Tiger clan leaders dragged Allan away without allowing him to provide any correct information.

Not too long after, in a rocky valley in the Audoc terrain…

Having convinced everyone that not only was he possessed, but he was at war with them—and thus could never go home—Allan had announced he was going to go train by himself and fled up here.

It was an area dotted by the short, scraggly trees common at high elevations.

Certain there was no one else around, he stuck the possessed ax between two rocks and began yelling at it. It was an odd sight, but he clearly meant business…which made it even sillier looking.

“What the hell, man? Why’d you start attacking? Now everyone’s convinced I’m a boob who got duped into letting a demon lord possess me! Give me my life back!”

His complaints did not lack for scale, but when all hope was lost, people tended to talk like this.

Surtr, meanwhile, had got his wits back and clearly had some regrets. “My bad. I mean that! I wasn’t trying to trick you or nothing. Just…when I saw that spiky head, I got so pissed off…”

“I’m not talking about your personal problems! Keep it together! You’re a demon lord! I shouldn’t be stuck feeling like an owner trying to restrain a grumpy dog.”

Surtr took that comparison in stride and tried to explain himself. “It’s like…he looks just like this dude I used to know. We were both after the same girl… I’m pretty sure that was him.”

“The one you told me about? With the sick brother? You said you were so in love with her that you sprung for a ‘Dom Pérignon’ to help that brother out.”

Put like that, it seemed normal enough. But Surtr was just a sucker falling for a cabaret girl’s bullshit.

“Yeah, I bet we fought each other over that Dom Pérignon. I got her one, and then he rolls in to show me up, orders the rosé…”

“I thought ‘Dom Pérignon’ was medicine. Medicines come in rosé?”

“Yeah, probably some sort of panacea. And the rosé was…a better one.”

Dom Pérignon rosé definitely cost more, but all buying one would get you was a night’s undivided attention.

“Then I guess I get wanting to attack,” Allan muttered, still not satisfied. “But can’t you control the impulse? I was thinking of swallowing my shame and trying again, but…”

Surtr’s response was so resigned that Allan could almost see his head shake.

“Can’t promise that. I dunno if this is a demon lord thing or what, but there’s no telling what’ll set me off…and plenty of things do. Heh-heh.”

“‘Heh-heh,’ my ass! I oughtta leave you here!”

Allan wasn’t into carrying around a bomb if he didn’t even know where the trigger was. He didn’t sound like he was joking.

“Sorry, bro! Don’t mean to be a burden, ole buddy, old pal! Don’t abandon me in my hour of need! I get enough of that with girls! If guys start abandoning me, it just wouldn’t be fair!”

“Oh, now you’re all…”

“I’m one of the better ones! There is this demon lord called the Erlking; he doesn’t have a thought in him except splitting pieces of himself off to grow more treants. And there’s this locust guy, Abaddon? He’s so hungry he’s always trying to conquer places. At least, that’s what the girl in the helmet and white coat said.”

“Dr. Eug?”

“Yeah…and the reason I’m only this crazy is because I managed to remember a few fragments of my past.”

So the spiky-haired guy remembered everything? Allan almost voiced that thought but figured it might set Surtr off again, so he stopped himself.

“So you admit you’re pretty crazy? But if you know Dr. Eug, then I really can’t just drop you.”

“Best plan is for you to get strong enough to restrain me when I snap.”

“That ain’t happening…” Allan slumped to the ground, defeated.

“We have a lot in common,” Surtr muttered, too quietly for Allan to hear. “I thought you might be able to, but…I guess it ain’t that easy.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, just talking to myself.”

“Argh, what am I supposed to do? They think I’m possessed! They’re gonna throw everything they’ve got at me! But if I don’t enter this tournament, there’s no telling what Nexamic and Renge will do…and I still don’t know why Dr. Eug captured you!”

Surtr was now fully back to his initial friendly confidant vibe.

“You’ve got no choice but to fight, huh? If you win, make ’em listen! If you lose, just go, ‘Thanks for freeing me!’”

“You make it sound easy, but if I have to fight Lloyd? He might well kill me.” Allan sounded relieved that Surtr had his groove back.

“That boy, right? Your master? The soft-looking kid with the chestnut hair hiding behind the spiky-haired demon lord?”

“You noticed him?”

“I’m a demon lord. Could sense the power. He was off the charts for a human. At full power, I could take him, but not in this form.”

“Are you really planning to fight? I was hoping to find a diplomatic solution…”

“I’m trying to help! You’ve gotta surpass your master. That spiky head is working with your boy! I know it! You’ve gotta crush him!”

“I don’t need that kinda help! I crave peace!”

“Cool! I can do that. Grow some balls, Allan! This is a proxy war! You’ve gotta beat him to a pulp and prove you ain’t been taken over by no demon lord! That’s the only waaaaay!”

“Nothing involving a beatdown counts as peace! You’re back in crazy mode! Surtr!”

Allan was regretting ever talking to this thing and was forced to spend the rest of the daylight hours pounding the concept of a peaceful solution into the demon lord’s head.

While Allan was struggling to make sense of his predicament…

“Well, this is a predicament.”

Alka’s group had been thrown in a prison operated by the Audocs. Their ship had pulled over to refuel, and they’d been asked to disembark and then been guided to a dimly lit interior…and into a cell.

So basically, they just followed a guide right into prison.

Without knowing why they’d been locked up or even realizing that they were, they kicked back awhile…until realization dawned.

“How did this happen?” Merthophan wailed, clutching the bars.

“Calm yourself, Merthophan. They probably just ran out of reception rooms to hold the passengers! And used the jail for overflow.”

“Even if that unlikely scenario were true, they wouldn’t have locked the door.”

No iron bars could possibly contain Alka, so she was definitely not treating this situation with the same gravity.

Micona sighed, unable to imagine a reason for their confinement. “It’s not like Ex-Colonel Merthophan dropped his clothes to reveal his loincloth form…”

“I have no idea how that would lead to imprisonment. Certainly, it exposes a great deal of skin, but it is impossible for Traditional Farming Attire to be a crime!”

It was now his default fashion statement, and those beautiful eyes radiated such innocence that both Alka and Micona chose not to argue.

“Hard to imagine this is Jiou’s doing. They’d know these iron bars are like Styrofoam to me.”

“What kind of foam?”

“Oh, whoops. Micona, that doesn’t exist in this era. Just…imagine something really flimsy,” Alka said, sticking out her tongue.

“Okaaay…but certainly, they’re aware my treant powers could easily bend these bars. That does make Jiou’s involvement unlikely. I mean, it’s this easy.”

Micona actually did extend a treant root and bend one of the bars.

“Hey, put that back!” Merthophan scolded. “These really are flimsy, though. I can easily extend my loincloth through the gaps! They’re of no use as a containment facility.”

“……I’m getting quite concerned about this trajectory you’re on…”

If Alka, the embodiment of outlandish, was getting worried…

A cheery voice cut in, expressing that exact thought. “Golly! If Alka starts worrying about you, you’re doomed!”

“Who the—?!” Merthophan shouted, reflexively stripping to his loincloth. (He was definitely “doomed.”)

Eve—in her usual costume—had poked her head out in front of their cage, waving adorably…like a theme-park mascot had come to play. This made Micona’s frown deepen.

“A bunny costume? Are you kidding me? Let us out of here!”

“I assure you—I’m not kidding at all.”

This silly response left Micona ready to throw down, but Alka raised a hand to stop her.

“Alka, why—?”

“That voice…is it really you?”

Eve spun twice and struck a pose. No wavering, like an experienced dancer.

“It is! Been far too long, Ruka Akizuki. Wait, you’re going by Alka now?”

“President…Eva?”

Eve waggled a finger. “Non, non! It’s Eve now. Eve of the Profen Kingdom.”

Merthophan recognized that name and saluted. “Eve…and that costume! You’re King Eve Profen?!”

“Yep! Chaaaarmed.”

Merthophan followed the salute with a low bow. “I apologize for my subordinate’s rudeness.”

“Hmm, I feel like the loincloth is far ruder.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll adjust the wedgie,” Merthophan apologized, as if she’d pointed out his tie was loose.

“Wow, it’s no use talking to you,” Eve said, wriggling with apparent delight.

She took a key out of the pouch on her shoulder and moved to open the door.

“Sorry you had to get all cooped up! I was so desperate to see you, Alka, that I put out a directive saying, ‘If you see this kid, lemme know!’ and I guess they thought that was like a wanted poster. My bad!”

Alka finally recovered from her stupor—but when she spoke, her voice slipped out of her usual goofy grandma act. “You wanted to see me? And…you’re still alive?”

Eve seemed to be fumbling with the door, the costume clearly getting in the way. “Argh,” she muttered and stuck a hand out of the mouth to complete the job. A very uncanny spectacle.

“Yep, I’m alive! The very person who made the world like this. A criminal without a wanted poster— Oh, it’s open! You’re free!”

The more whimsical Eve got, the more serious Alka became.

“That was Eug! You didn’t—”

“It was me, Akizuki. Don’t you forget that. That crime is one I’ll carry—back to my burrow!”

The speed of her tone shifts could give you whiplash, her behavior so inexplicable it looped back around to terrifying.

“Chief, you know the king of Profen?”

“And since when do you talk like that, Alka?”

A change had swept over Alka, and it was worrying her companions. They’d never seen her this grim.

“You kids go on ahead!” Alka urged, forcing herself back into character. “I’m gonna hang back and chat with this lady.”

“I don’t mind doing that,” Micona said. “But what’s the history between you two?”

“That’s top secret,” Eve whispered. “Like your bust size, big boobs.”

“Wha—?!”

Micona had no clue how to deal with a dig that direct, and Eve followed it up with a reach and (attempted) grab.

“Tch! They’re E-cups or better! E! E!”

And with that display of naked hostility, she turned back to Alka.

“We’ve got a lot to catch up on, human demon lord. Let’s talk over tea.”

“Human demon lord?” Merthophan asked.

“Forget she said that,” Alka snapped. She took a step after Eve, then turned back. “This could take a while. Watch after Lloyd for me, Merthophan. Same to you, Micona.”

And then she followed Eve away, looking less like a kid grandma than a business woman on her way to a sales meeting.