Grego Drand was not worried. For him, a Tier 9 Quester, the highest rank, subjugating a Demon Lord would not be difficult.

Rather, he was confused as to why everyone else was so scared. Humans had vanquished countless Demon Lord’s with minimal casualties before (of course, he would not be a casualty).

Grego was confident he would return to his beautiful harem in his beautiful mansion.

Needless to say, Grego was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. But, he did not know that.

Currently, he was seated around a fire with other Tier 9 and some Tier 8 Adventurers. Some of them held looks of arrogance, others were meek. In total, in his section of the raid (which, of course, he was leading) was fifteen people. There were four other squads.

Sixty highly skilled humans. Their specialties ranging from Lancers to Mages.

The number did not seem to be very many, as they were attacking an entire Demon Lord’s Castle, but it was sufficient.

Grego was the Number Two in his kingdom of Milon. A well-known country for its powerful Adventurers. His nickname was ‘Bloody Beserker’ for his viciousness on the battlefield. Grego used a battle axe, it was huge and made of the finest material. Yet, even with its heaviness, Grego practically danced across the battlefield with agility he should not possess.

The blade was so sharp that even when you simply touched it, blood would be drawn.

One could not help but watch in awe as he easily mowed down opponents with a few swings of his weapon.

Grego was everyone's dream-man. Not only was he strong, he was handsome. Luscious golden locks, clear blue eyes, a stubborn jaw, and full lips.

He fit the hero persona to a T. Grego  had a charming smile that just made a person feel secure.

"You all worry for naught," Grego said in a confident tone. "It's a simple subjugation mission."

There was a chorus of laughs at his input.

"Only you would call it a simple mission," Reiner Grond stated. "This Demon Lord had already wiped out countless subjugation raids."

"Pah! They were weak!" was Grego's response.

Thus, the next morning they proceeded. The raid easily entered the Demon Lord’s lair and climbed up higher and higher. The demons that were there were low in ranking but numerous in number. So, what really slowed them down, was the sheer amount of enemies.

This has got be a joke, thought Grego as he beheaded ten goblins with a mighty swing.

They arrived at a grand set of obsidian doors with absolutely no casualties. No one had but minimal scrapes on their bodies.

Grego kicked open the great doors. “Demon Lord! We have come to slay you!” his deep voice rang out through the ruined throne room.

“Um~” a tired sounding voice answered. “Could you come back later?” A yawn. “I just woke up from my nap, you see.”

Every Quester had a look of surprise on their face. What was with that lame introduction? Was he trying to be funny?

“Your words will not fool me!” Grego pretended to be undaunted.

“Eh? I’m not really trying to fool you,” laughter, “but let’s just be friends, okay? I really hate fighting. The smell of blood makes me sick.”

Grego’s perfect face twitched. “If you don’t take the first move, we will!” Grego began to move toward the figure that sat on a pitiful looking throne. The closer he got, the more pitiful the figure became.

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All Demon Lords Grego had seen (and slayed) had all been objects of fear. Dark, leathery skin, crooked horns, sometimes large wings that created tornados with a single flap. But this Demon Lord? He looked like an unkempt twenty-year-old.

He had a nice face, it was rather feminine, also. One of his crimson eyes was covered by a black eyepatch. His hair was long and completely black, with a crimson streak through it.

“Is this a joke?” Grego found himself repeating out loud.

This Demon Lord looked worthless.

The Demon Lord raised a hand and scratched the back of his head. “Eh? Isn’t that kind of mean?” He had a weak smile on his face and a ‘What can you do?’ expression on his face.

All of the Adventurer’s had now gotten close enough to see the Useless Demon Lord. Everything about him screamed weak. He didn’t have an oppressive aura, he looked thin, he wore simple black gear...

“Ah! If all of you stare at me like that, I get nervous!”

“Grego... this must be a fake. The real Demon Lord is hiding somewhere,” a woman with ocean blue hair hypothesized.

“Yes, that must be it.”

“Hey,” suddenly a darkness entered the ‘Demon Lord’s’ eyes, “if you keep insulting me, I’ll get mad, y’know?” A tiny bit of bloodlust escaped him.

In an instant, the Adventurers readied their weapons. The tiny bit that had escaped installed a great fear within their very being.

This, this was the real deal.

“I guess it’s time to stop playing around.” The Demon Lord cracked his neck. He now let all of his aura flow out.

The female Quester who had spoken earlier screamed loudly.

Fear.

This was not a normal Demon Lord.

Grego, even with fear plaguing him, boldly attacked the Demon Lord. Just as he swung his axe, his entire body froze.

“Wait, wait! I have to do my introduction now.” A sick smile spread across his face. “Hello, pitiful humans, my name is the Demon Lord Erebus. The reason why I let you come here so easily is because I enjoy killing you all myself. Please let me see your disgusting true forms. Please let me see you abandon your so-called comrades to save your own miserable hides.”

Grego was released from his imprisonment. His axe hit the Demon Lord’s neck.

The attack did nothing. Erebus raised a single finger, rather dramatically, and flicked the axe. The flick sent Grego crashing into the wall with a sickening splat.

Grego, the Bloody Berserker, was now dead. He died an uneventful death.

“Weak.”

In desperation, as they knew they had already lost (seeing as the strongest one of them all had easily been disposed of), the Adventurers courageously attacked the monster.

And he decimated them. It was not a battle deserving detail, it could not even be considered a battle. No, let’s just say, to preserve their honor that we will omit the details.

The end result was limbs, blood, and entrails littered throughout the old throneroom.

The Demon Lord Erebus covered his nose and made a disgusted noise. “As I thought, I really hate the smell of blood.”