Late in the evening, far in the east, in a palace upon a mountain…

Kneeling on one of the rectangular woven mats lining the floor, seated at a low table, Falcon is polishing his curving sword with a rag. In the center of the room just beside his table, one of the mats is intentionally asymmetrical to make way for an iron hearth in the floor. A soft flame dances on small coals within the sunken space, crackling quietly. Entirely focused on giving his blade a mirror sheen, he ignores the sound of the paper door to his room sliding open.

「…Yes?」

He ask in a calm, disinterested voice, then continues rubbing the rag on his sword.

「…The demon lord invites you」

The visitor replies just as Falcon looks at the blade to appreciate its polish. In the reflection, he notices amber eyes over his shoulder, then shoots up to his feet.

Swish!

「Hold!」

The horned fiend says with a grin as it holds its clawed palm out towards Falcon. He stops his blade just short of carving through the demon's throat.

「Aah-ahh… All this time I keep telling you scum to not speak your language in our land, but now that you speak in ours, it's even worse… How did you get in here, demon?」

The young swordsman remarks, glaring at the fiend despite a calm expression on his face. It lowers its hand, its sharp-toothed grin grows.

「We have our ways…」

The demon replies, staring at Falcon with red-tinged amber eyes. He presses the blade against its throat in response.

「I don't like that answer. Speak, or you will lose your head.」

Falcon grips his sword tighter, narrowing his eyes. The demon remains nonchalant and unbothered by the imminent threat.

「I will speak… The demon lord wishes to offer you a position as one of the generals.」

The pale, lanky demon replies, its menacing teeth still bared with its noseless face twisted into a grin.

「That doesn't answer my question…」

The swordsman growls, but then a very faint sign of confusion appears on his face as his brows furrow ever so slightly.

「…The demon lord has been dead for hundreds of years-」

「Ackakakakakakaka!…」

Clap! Clap! Clap clap!

Hearing Falcon's words, the demon throws its horned head back and lets out a throaty cackle that only vaguely sounds like laughter, all while clapping its clawed, thin, unnaturally long hands.

「…Kakakakakaka!」

「What's so funny, you foul wretch? Am I wrong?」

Falcon asks while the demon continues to outright guffaw with its jaw open like a snake. Its laughter trails off into silence.

「…You have no grasp of how wrong you are, human.」

It replies, swinging the upper side of its head back down while its jaw remains entirely still, almost as if the lid of a small jewelry box full of sharp pearls was swinging shut.

「May her Divine Embodiment forgive me these words, but… Explain.」

Cla-clak…

The sword rattles softly as Falcon brings more of its edge to the demon's throat. The demon remains completely unfazed, but its beady amber eyes narrow, and its grin grows again.

「Gladly…」

It replies, then with its elbows bent, it presents Falcon its two open palms.

「…The demon lord dies…」

The demon raises one palm, briefly glancing at it. Falcon tracks the motions with his wary eyes.

「…And the demon lord lives.」

Lowering his palm, the demon raises the other.

Grinning, it then puts the palms together and bows towards Falcon in a mock prayer, or a gesture of gratitude common to the Eastern Kingdoms. Its horns almost poke him in the face.

「…Ackakakakakakakakaka!」

Falcon moves his head out of the way, and the demon throws its head back into a throaty laughter again, almost inadvertently stabbing him with its horns.

「…That explains precisely nothing. Are you just wasting my time?」

「Wrong again, human…」

It declares as its head once again drops down to its stationary jaw. Its piercing amber eyes stare into Falcon's with an intensity so severe, that it causes his face to momentarily flinch.

「…It explains everything. The demon lord is an unending existence. You think a mere human is capable of ending that?…」

The fiend asks, and its grin reappears on its pale, flat face again. Falcon listens in silence with a wary, guarded gaze.

「…You can no more kill the demon lord, than you can kill the night by swinging your sword at the moon… Why don't you try it?」

The demon asks, and looks behind itself at the faint moonlight trickling in through the open door to the hallway, before chuckling.

「…Again, why are you here?」

The swordsman growls, though his face remains undecipherable.

「Didn't I say it? The demon lord was impressed by your competence, and invites you to serve as a general. This will come with many benefits, of course…」

The fiend explains, spreading its long, thin arms.

「Hmpf. What makes you think that I will pledge eternal allegiance and be-?」

Falcon scoffs and lets out a disdainful, partially amused huff.

「The demon lord does not require the eternal pledge.」

The grinning demon cuts in. Falcon narrows his eyes.

「…What are you talking about? Supposing that's true, what would stop everyone who serves the demon lord from just rebelling at an opportune time?」

Confused, the swordsman shakes his head lightly.

「That is a good question… And I shall answer…」

Its grin grows as it nods its horned head.

「…The eternal pledge is unnecessary to serve the demon lord. Loyalty of the demon lord's subjects will be secured with the demon lord's rule and its benefits.」

「Hah. Benefits? Like wanton rape and slaughter in effort to eradicate us?」

Unable to hide his contempt any longer, a ridiculing, disdainful expression appears on Falcon's face.

「The demon lord will not eradicate any race. Those that fight will die, those that bow will live in excess, and those that live quietly will live quietly still…」

The fiend shakes its head, eyes centered on Falcon's the entire time.

「…Of course, there will be additional boons to those that pledge eternal allegiance…」

It shrugs its bony shoulders, baring more of its teeth with its beady eyes narrowing a little.

「…Serve the demon lord, and you too will have everything that you desire. Power, food, entertainment, luxuries, women…」

「I am quite popular with women, thank you very much… I can find my way to a bathhouse on my own, I don't need the demon lord's help.」

Falcon scoffs again, shaking his head in disdain.

「If you join the demon lord, there will be no limit to the depravities you will be able to shamelessly indulge in.」

The demon says with its best inhuman impression of a door to door salesman smile, holding its palms up in attempt to reason with Falcon.

「…And that's supposed to be a benefit? You disgust me. Where is this demon lord?」

「Venture north if you wish to serve…」

It replies, invitingly pointing its clawed hand in the general direction of north.

「North? Where the northerners are?」

Falcon asks, narrowing his eyes.

「No… North of this land.」

The demon shakes its head, and lowers its arm.

「Where? You expect me to blindly wander like a surfaced burrower?」

「It would be unwise to tell you the precise location… Venture north, alone, and you will be brought to the demon lord.」「Tsk…」

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The fiend sees through the attempt, causing Falcon to click his tongue in frustration.

「There is very little that the demon lord cannot present or offer you. Simply request, and it will likely be granted.」

It adds, shrugging its hands.

「…And what if I just refuse and kill you?」

Falcon presses the edge of the blade against its pale throat, hard enough to draw a small amount of blood.

「Kill it if you must, or let it free. This body has outlived its usefulness either way.」

The demon replies, completely unfazed by the threat.

「This body?… Do you mean?…」

The young man's head perks up. His eyes first widen slightly in surprise, then narrow in confusion.

「Yes…」

The demon grins and nods, then takes a few steps backwards.

Taptap!

The floor mats' weave makes a soft sound as the demon backflips, only to land on his clawed hands and handstand.

「…Lesser beings unconditionally serve the demon lord. This body is a mere messenger, its survival optional, its life expendable…」

The demon explains while balancing on its clawed hands, wobbling heavily while its red-tinted, vertically slit orange eyes stare upward into Falcon's disturbed ones.

Tap!

「…Sparing it is an amiable gesture, however. The demon lord offers freedom, including the freedom to oppose… Within reason. The choice is yours, human.」

Landing back on its pale, clawed feet, the fiend spreads its arms as if a mere performer in a circus.

「Get out my room…」

Falcon demands, pressing his blade against its throat. It backs away, stepping out of the room into the moonlit wooden hallway. Falcon slides the door shut behind himself.

Swish!… Thunk-thunk…

After a moment of the two staring into each other's eyes, Falcon swings his sword through the fiend's throat. Its body falls limp, gushing blood on the wall and the floor. Its horned head drops a few paces away and rolls down the hall for a few moments, leaving a trail of blood behind itself.

「…I don't want to get it dirty.」

Splat!

He adds, shaking most of the blood on the blade off into the rest on the floor. He lets out a large, fatigued sigh.

「Aaahh-ahh… All that polishing gone to waste… Tsk…」

Clik. Clik. Clik…

He taps his curving sword's blunt side on his armored shoulder with a soft clatter, grumbling.

「…Man, this isn't something I wanted to deal with in my lifetime… It's gonna cut into bathhouse time…」

After a brief glance at the decapitated demon's body, quietly complaining to himself, he rubs the back of his neck with his hand with a troubled grimace on his face.

「…Shit. It's gonna cut into bathhouse time bad…」

Falcon takes a turn and casually walks down the bloodied hallway. With his blade on his shoulder, he quietly bemoans the future as he leaves the corpse behind…

…

Around the same time, in the Redwing Kingdom's royal palace, in a magic workshop…

Clak… Clak-clak…

Leaning over the workbench, Straf is working on the next iteration of a magic gun. The door behind him slowly swings open.

「Straf?…」

Cycelia peeks her face in, blinking her emerald eyes at his back.

「Yeah? What do you need, Lia?」

He asks, glancing at her over his shoulder. She steps in and quietly closes the door.

「Nothing… It's just a letter from the Mage Federation came addressed directly to you. I didn't break the seal, so…」

She shrugs her shoulders, gingerly taking steps towards Straf's workbench.

「Huh? From the fuckin' mage thing?」

Straf asks with his brows furrowed, greatly surprised.

「Yes… I'll just leave it for you here. I looked for you in your room, but I only found Stripe sleeping on your bed…」

Cycelia nods her chestnut head, holding up an envelope sealed with a blue wax stamp. She sets it aside near the array of Straf's tools.

「…You don't mind her doing that, right?」

She asks, blinking her emerald eyes at him.

「Eh?…」

Straf meets her gaze and blinks back. The two look at each other for a prolonged moment.

《…Why does that feel like a loaded question?》

He thinks, slowly gaining a tight-lipped grimace on his face. Cycelia tilts her head, still expecting an answer.

「…Well, if she's sleepy.」

Straf expertly dodges the central issue, smirking awkwardly while he shrugs his hands and returns back to work.

「Right… You know, when you first said she'll be a slave, I was really worried that you'd treat her really, really bad…」

She nods, gently smiling, seemingly satisfied with Straf's non-answer.

「…But you're being nice to her, and it seems like she actually likes it here.」

She adds, shrugging her shoulders as she peeks over his shoulder at the magic gun on the workbench.

「Yeah, the collar is just a formality to show that she has an owner… And to hang up a bell-」

Straf's head abruptly perks up, appearing enlightened.

Snap!

「Genius!」

「What is?」

Cycelia tilts her head as Straf snaps his fingers, blinking at his grinning face with confused emerald eyes.

「A bell that rings.」

Straf replies, then returns to carving out magic channels in a box of soft, malleable metal that seems to be part of the magic gun, though currently detached.

「Eh? What?… What's that you're working on? Is that the crossbow thingy?」

Getting over her brief bout of deep confusion, Straf's work attracts her interest, and she points her dainty finger at the box.

「It's not a crossbow thingy, Lia. It's a magic gun… Well, technically, I'm doing the trigger group right now.」

Straf replies, glancing at her with a patronizing smirk on his face before quickly returning to his work.

「A magic gun?… What's a gun for?」

Cycelia asks with an innocent smile and curious green eyes.

「Well…」

Straf puts his tools down and places his fists on his hips as he straightens out, grimacing heavily while he thinks.

「…Depending on where you sit on the political spectrum, guns either kill people, or they don't.」

He replies with his hands spread, then shrugs his shoulders and continues working on the magic gun.

「Eh? It's for killing people?…」

She furrows her brows while fidgeting with her medallion, sounding almost disappointed.

「It can be used for hunting too, Lia. The other day I hunted a bear that was pestering the lumber mill…」

Straf nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, carving another little channel in the already extremely complex interior.

「Ah! That's great! I've heard the maids complain about furniture prices lately, and that might have had something to do with it!」

Cycelia's smile returns as she softly clasps her hands together.

「…Yeaaaaah, we really got a bear market lately… Also I technically used a real gun to do that…」

「What was that?」

「Nothing, Lia. Just bouncing my thoughts back and forth between the 4th wall.」

He replies after a short sigh. She tilts her head.

「Huh? What wall?…」

「The one that you can't see, Lia… Well, to be frank, I can't see it either, but it'll be a lot funnier if I just assume that it's there, you know what I mean?」

Straf briefly perks up and looks at her with a tight-lipped grimace on his face.

「…No, I don't think I do, Straf.」

Thinking intensely with her emerald gaze turned aside and her brows furrowed, she returns her eyes back to Straf and shakes her head.

「Alright. I thought so…」

He shrugs, then returns back to the magic gun.

She watches him work in silence for a few minutes, every now and then tilting her head, or looking at his tools.

「…Say, Straf… Do you think you could make a lot of these for hunters to use?-」「Ooooohooohoooohoooohoho!」

Cycelia asks, and Straf immediately straightens out, instantly dropping all his tools down on the workbench. He turns around and leans onto it.

「Eh?…」

「Are you suuuuuuuuuuuuure you want me to do that, Lia? That's like a million times worse than the train. Are you absolutely sure you want me to hand these out?」

He asks, stepping aside slightly to clear the view, and pointing his hands at the rifle.

「Um… In that case… Probably not. Never mind…」

Cycelia awkwardly lowers her gaze, and Straf nonchalantly returns back to work…