How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord: Volume 9
Page 2
There were some low rarity items that could be found quite handily in this other world as well.
“Huh?” Rem seemed surprised. “But...isn’t this equipment for fighting Demon Lords?”
“When it comes to fighting Demon Lords, compatibility is more important than a subtle difference in stats.”
“Compatibility... You mean elements like earth, water, fire, wind, light, and darkness?”
“Not just those.”
Explaining strategy and tactics like this was something Diablo had never experienced, even in the game, and he hadn’t had any chances to do so since coming to this world. It was the first time he had to change his gear to accommodate for a powerful enemy.
Explaining his plans felt more nerve-wracking than facing the Demon Overlord. He wanted to find a good way to cut the conversation before he ran his mouth and let slip something dumb.
Right, come to think of it, there’s one more item I needed to take...
He figured he may as well take it and knew exactly where it was without needing Rose to lead him there...
Having changed his equipment, Diablo used Teleportation again and hurried to Faltra with an extra fighter in tow.
Chapter 1: Invasion of the Demon Overlord’s Army
“My name is Emile Bichelberger! Faltra’s greatest superhuman warrior, boasting a level of 99!” a man introduced himself grandly.
This man was a warrior clad in golden full-body armor. Despite being human, his form was as staunch as a male pantherian’s, and he carried a crimson greatsword on his back. He was on his way to Faltra from another distant town when he happened upon a toppled carriage, and a dwarf who seemed to be in the prime of their life.
“An adventurer...? H-Help us, please!”
“If it’s aid you seek...” Emile turned his gaze to the enemy before him.
What had toppled the carriage over and was currently stomping on it was a monster; a massive, pitch-black bird called a giant crow. It had the appearance of a raven, except it was massive enough to swallow an adult member of the races whole, and had a sharp beak with a length that dwarfed even a longsword. It was a beast that had descended from the Fallen—a magical beast.
Rumors were abound that the Demon Lord in the west had revived, and it was common knowledge that a Demon Lord’s revival meant the magical beasts would increase in number. They were stronger, more aggressive, and more dangerous than the normal beasts and monsters found in the fields or mountains.
“Please do something, master warrior!” the dwarf cried out. “My daughter is still inside the carriage!”
“Your daughter, you say?!”
Emile’s eyes widened. He pulled out the sword on his back, and the magical energy contained in the blade turned to flames, scorching his surroundings. He held the sword in an overhead stance as he declared:
“I put women above all!”
“Wha...?!”
The sudden realization of “I just asked an idiot for help” floated up somewhere in the dwarf’s mind. Emile didn’t seem to notice, though.
“I will say it once more! I love women above all else! Emile Bichelberger is guardian to all women!”
It didn’t matter how many exasperated, puzzled gazes were directed his way; that was trivial in the face of this man’s lofty goal of protecting women.
“Have at thee, damnable bird!” Emile shouted as he charged at the giant crow.
...But the giant crow simply spread out its wings and flapped itself upward, taking off from the carriage.
Is it fleeing?!
Seemingly not, as after flying up, it dived back down toward Emile. The races had many means of fighting, but they were based around the premise of the opponent being on the ground. An airborne opponent was hard to hit, and the giant crow was picking up momentum as it dove. This made its attack equal in strength to the blow of a giant hammer descending from above.
“Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!” The monster opened its mouth wide and screeched.
“Too slow!”
Emile leapt. Now, he was clad in armor that weighed at least as much as he did. A normal person would struggle to even stand up straight under such weight, and a well-trained warrior would at most be able to keep up a nice jog. But Emile had jumped, reaching above the head of the giant crow bearing down on him with a nimbleness that put even the agile grasswalkers to shame.
“Take that!!” He brought his burning greatsword down upon the magical beast.
Seemingly never expecting to be attacked from above, the giant crow froze in surprise. The sound of bones breaking rang out, and the magical beast’s head was quickly split in half. A living beast would usually spout blood, but magical beasts instead dispersed into particles of light upon death.
A single slash from Emile had destroyed the creature. He landed on the ground with a thud, his lips curling into a smile.
“Heh... Has another woman fallen for me over my overwhelming strength?”
Emile turned around to the carriage, where the dwarf and his daughter would bare looks of gratitude toward him...
But they were gone. No one was there. Emile checked inside the carriage to be safe, but couldn’t find so much as a stray kitten inside. The two had fled while he was fighting.
Heaving a sigh, Emile felt his lips slacken.
“My oh my, you bashful little girl, you.” He ran his fingers through his forelocks. “To think you’d be too shy to show your face to the man you fell for.”
Emile was overwhelmingly positive, as usual..
By the time the noon bell had rung out, Emile had crossed Faltra’s gates. The atmosphere in the city was overbearingly heavy. There were usually stalls bustling with shoppers along the main street, but right now, there wasn’t a single resident in sight. The majority of businesses were closed, with only inns and weapons stores still operating. Instead of civilians, there were many soldiers walking about. Many of them were clad in armor, heavily equipped. Some of them glared at Emile suspiciously, but he simply raised an hand toward them in that easygoing fashion of his.
“Howdy, are there some sort of festivities today?”
“Emile?! You’re alive, you crazy dog! I haven’t seen you in ages!” A small group of soldiers had gathered around him.
Emile was something of a local celebrity in Faltra. He may have been an adventurer, but he was well-known among the soldiers as a dependable warrior. He had many friends in this regard as well.
“‘Alive,’ you say? Of course I am! This is the Emile Bichelberger you’re talking about here! So long as there are women to defend in this world, I will never fall!”
“You never change... But I guess having that sort of personality is why you came back at a time like this, huh.”
While the soldiers seemed happy to be reunited with an old friend, there was tragic sorrow to their expressions. Were things really that bad?
“How are things in the west?”
“We decided to abandon the Ulug Bridge. The Demon Lord’s army apparently reached the Man-Eating Forest. According to reports, they have large numbers, and large-class magical beasts, too.”
“Ohh... My sword arm throbs in excitement.”
Emile’s words prompted the soldiers to exchange gazes.
“I wish I could have some of that bottomless optimism of yours. Faltra might be done for this time...”
Another soldier nodded gravely. “Even with a barrier that repels the Fallen... There’s no way we’d last more than a few years, closed up in the city.”
“It’ll be fine!” Emile placed encouraging hands on their shoulders.
“Huh? What, do you have some sort of secret plan? Or are reinforcements from the capital coming?!”
“I don’t have any plans, and I doubt any reinforcements would come. It’s the king of Lyferia, he wouldn’t weaken his own defenses now that the Demon Lord’s awakened.”
“Then there’s nothing fine about this...”
“But it will be fine! Have faith, if in nothing else
but me!”
“Huh?”
“I primarily defend women, but I’ll protect you lot while I’m at it! So, for as far as your swords reach, make sure to keep women safe!”
“Ahaha, while you’re at it, huh...” The soldiers exchanged exasperated smiles. “I feel dumb for being depressed over this when I look at you.”
“Being depressed is indeed foolish, but if there’s one fact that will never change...it’s that we, my friends, are guardians to all women!”
“You got that right!” The soldier nodded along.
“Damn it all!” Another soldier seemed to be fired up. “Let’s do this!”
That zeal was seemingly spreading to everyone around them.
†
That same day, at 11 in the morning—
“...Come on, Boris,” the man’s friend, Massa, whispered in a thin voice. “Will we really be fine here?”
“Should be. Keep your head down, though, no matter what. And I’m begging you, don’t make any noises if something happens.”
“I know, I know... That’s why we picked the two quietest horses we could find.”
The men’s horses were tied in the shadow of a barn a short distance away. It was a position that couldn’t be seen from the other side of the river. Boris and Massa themselves were crawling against the ground, hiding from view.
Ulug Bridge... Boris had volunteered to scout out his former station, which meant only he and his childhood friend Massa stayed behind while everyone else retreated. Their job was to keep an eye on the Demon Lord’s army’s movements. They’d be forced to fight once the Fallen marched on the city, but knowing of the enemy’s numbers and war potential could give them some advantage...or, at the very least, help them prepare themselves mentally for what was to come. It would relieve the soldiers from the fear and stress of not knowing what was coming and when it might appear. Information was crucial in these times.
Gathering this information, however, also meant coming within visible range of the Demon Lord’s army. It was an exceptionally dangerous prospect.
“They’re coming!” Boris clasped a hand over Massa’s mouth, who was just about to scream. Boris’s fingers reached to Massa’s nose, and he seemed to be tearing up. But now wasn’t the time to deal with that.
Boris’s eyes widened.
The Demon Lord’s army!
The figures that appeared on the other side of the river were without a doubt the Demon Lord’s forces. The first thing that entered their field of view were giant magical beasts in the shape of turtles, known as grand turtles. They were essentially mobile fortresses. Riding on their backs were the deformed forms of the Fallen.
Other Fallen were walking around them, seeming exceptionally small in comparison to the grand turtles, despite the fact that the Fallen were several times the size a member of the races. There were also other, medium-type magical beasts prowling about, going at whatever pace they wished, without any semblance of order or discipline.
What’s that? Boris asked himself. A box?
Chained to the top of the shell of the leading grand turtle was what looked like a square, four-sided die. It was secured with something akin to the chains used to anchor ships. The box was black, and there were letters carved onto its surface that made Boris’s stomach squirm just by looking at them. The races harbored a certain instinctive sense of disgust from the very sight of the grotesque Fallen, but this was even stronger than that...
“Ugh...” Massa shivered next to Boris. ”I feel sick...”
“You shouldn’t look.”
“...Th-This should be enough... Let’s go back, Boris.”
“Not yet. Just look away and think about your girlfriend in the city or something.”
“...But I don’t have one.”
“Think of your mother, then.”
Using the precious telescope he’d borrowed from his captain, Boris peered out into the distance. Someone was standing in front of the box. Their commander, perhaps? Was that the Demon Overlord Modinaram...?
He looks like...an owl?
†
The box sat affixed to the grand turtle’s back. The thick shell was treated like a ship’s deck, with thick stakes thrust into it. Chains were connected to those stakes and extended toward the box, binding it in place. With every one of the grand turtle’s sluggish steps, the chains creaked and squeaked.
The box was large enough to contain a noble’s house. If the grand turtle was to be likened to a moving castle, the box was like its inner citadel.
Standing before the box was a Fallen with an owl’s head. His body had limbs, like the races, and had thick, developed muscles.
“It’s in sight! The territory of the races!”
There were a few other Fallen kneeling near him. One of them was clad in a loose cloth and an oval hat rimmed with golden embroidery. They had the head of a frog, and while their robust body wasn’t unusual among the Fallen, the fact that their gut was sticking out certainly was.
“Commander Eulerex, the Ulug Bridge is in sight. The races’ armies could very well be there.”
“We press forward!” The owl-headed Fallen responded by sticking out a hand. “And we crush them! The complete extermination of the races is the will of the Demon Overlord Modinaram!”
“By your will...” The frog-headed Fallen rolled up his round belly uncomfortably and bowed.
The Fallen Priest, Lazpuras. In the past, he’d served as an advisor to the dragon-eyed Fallen, Edelgard, but she had since lost her standing due to her failures. He now served as Eulerex’s staff officer.
Lazpuras turned his gaze to the girl standing next to him, Manuela. She was half the height of the other Fallen who had Eulerex’s physique, putting her at roughly the races’ size. Her limbs and torso were thin like twigs, and were so delicate it seemed as, if one were to apply pressure to them, they’d snap...like a skeleton.
While Manuela was lacking in physical prowess, she was a skilled magical beast user. She, too, once served another master. She was once an officer and wife to Varakness, a vampire-type Fallen. Varakness once held the position of commander-in-chief of the army, but...in what the Fallen might call “regrettable,” he was beaten by a demon sorcerer.
Manuela was currently under Eulerex’s command and helped lead the army alongside Lazpuras. It was, in fact, her magic that had subjugated the magical beasts, which wouldn’t normally even obey a Demon Lord, and had them bolster the army’s forces.
“How despicable...” Eulerex murmured as if mouthing a curse. “How many years have we longed to cross this puny, accursed bridge...”
“This bridge was once half-destroyed, was it not?” Lazpuras cast a gaze toward the stone bridge.
“Hmm... Edelgard faced a sorcerer of the races here, and he cast a White Nova spell.”
“So I heard... But I do find it hard to believe. One of the measly races being able to cast such an advanced spell...”
“All the more despicable. He goes by Diablo...and with his magical prowess, it stands to reason.”
“Diablo?!” Manuela, who’d silently manipulated the magical beasts by their side until now, suddenly screeched. “Aaaaaah! Diaaaaaabloooooo!”
He was the man who’d killed her former master, come to think of it.
“Calm yourself,” Lazpuras told her. “Concentrate on your magic... All will be well. Master Modinaram will destroy everything.”
“Aaah... Aaah... Aaah...” Manuela gave a shaky nod, her teeth clicking and squeaking nervously.
It’d be different this time around. They couldn’t possibly lose. They had eight grand turtles and an army of 1,000 magical beasts and Fallen, all given power by the Demon Overlord.
They crossed the river; a body of water of this depth couldn’t stand in the grand turtles’ way. They passed the stone bridge as if the structure wasn’t even there as they walked through the plains, crushing the bridge in their wake.
Eulerex smirked. “Heheheheh... Behold the overwhelming might
of our army!”
The sound of the wind being cut suddenly resounded around them. Another Fallen descended on the grand turtle’s back, flapping their dragon-like wings. They were a slender, well-proportioned girl who wore a china-dress-like outfit that was open from below her bosom and down to her navel. Her long hair was tied at the back. She had a Chinese longsword hanging from her waist.
“Wasn’t that just one of the races’ fortresses we crushed? Where are they?!” The scaly tail growing from this beautiful girl’s backside swung to and fro excitedly.
“There was no presence of the races.” Eulerex’s neck rotated horizontally. “An empty fortress, I reckon.”
“Huuuh? The hell’s that mean?!”
“I would wager the races have caught wind of our advance and abandoned it.”
“So it was just a pile of pebbles? An-noy-ing!”
“Lady Ryoka, calm yourself...” Lazpuras remonstrated the girl. “We are in the presence of the Demon Overlord.”
“Mmm... F-Fine, I get it. But when do we get to fight?! Can’t this stupid turtle go any faster? If this thing goes any slower, I’ll dry up and turn into a dragon fossil before we get there.”
“...Stupid...turtle?” Annoyance began filling up Manuela’s expression.
Magical beast users tended to become attached to their magical beasts. Ryoka, on the other hand, was a Fallen who used weapons, and only showed affection for her sword.
The Fallen were inherently aggressive. As Lazpuras was racking his brain as to how to arbitrate the two of them, Ryoka suddenly shifted her glare to the road ahead. A single horse was galloping down the road, with a lone soldier on its back.
“The races?!”
No sooner than she said that, and before the officer Lazpuras or even the commander-in-chief Eulerex said a word, Ryoka took off like an arrow after it.
“...It’s a decoy,” Lazpuras said, looking ahead.
Ryoka caught up to the horse running down the road and swung down her Chinese longsword. Her slash cut through both the soldier and the horse, splitting them in half and carving into the ground beneath them. Blood and viscera spilled over the road.