How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord: Volume 11

by Yukiya Murasaki

“...But if everyone could speak to the Therianthropes like you can, perhaps we could draw a different line.” Rem looked at Diablo with envy in her eyes.

  “Mm? Yes, that could be.”

  “...If nothing else, I can no longer look at the Kobolds as mere beasts.”

  “Agreed.”

  He’d never tried it, but he might even be able to speak to giants. Though, in that case, they’d probably just say, “Gonna bite your head off.”

  Being able to exchange words didn’t necessarily mean you’d always get along.

  †

  They found their way back to the road just as they were about to give up and discuss where they should camp out. It was already late into the night. The next morning, they set out early, and around dusk, finally reached a town of the races just as the sky was becoming a shade of madder red.

  “Finally, a town!” Shera raced ahead, and Diablo admonished her so she wouldn’t trip.

  Rem, on the other hand, was visibly nervous.

  “Caliture...”

  Its outer perimeter was covered in high walls, which reminded Diablo of Faltra. There were also a few watchtowers with diagonal roofs.

  “If I recall, Caliture has a Fallen-repelling barrier as well, correct?”

  “...Yes.”

  There shouldn’t have been any Fallen in this region, but since this was the largest base in the south, it still had vigilant defenses applied to it. Unlike the Fallen, who act with deliberate intent, magical beasts can appear anywhere, not unlike a natural disaster. A barrier to block their advance was crucial.

  As it was sundown, the gates were bustling with farmers who had returned from the fields, traveling merchants, and travelers. Thanks to that, Diablo entered without anyone asking any questions about his horns.

  “If you’re passing through, do hurry up!” the gatekeeper called out. “We close the gate at sunset!”

  Such were the circumstances, it seemed.

  “It’s even more strict than Faltra here, isn’t it?”

  “...It wasn’t like this before. It’s likely because they’re in the middle of hostilities.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  Had Diablo not done anything, this city would have been under attack from the Kobolds right now. It was only natural they’d close down the gates for fear of a night raid.

  “Heehee!” Shera grinned. “It’s all thanks to you!”

  “Mm?”

  “I mean, wasn’t there going to be a war?”

  “Mmm... I suppose.”

  When she put it like that, he really did do quite a bit. It wasn’t over yet, though. Diablo passed through the gate and looked around the town.

  “We have to honor our promise to them, too.”

  They’d have to have Caliture’s governor—and depending on how things went, even the king of Lyferia—acknowledge the Kobolds as residents of this land.

  “...I’m sure you’ll be able to do it, Diablo.” Rem regarded him with a serious gaze.

  No pressure, huh?

  “W-Well, where’s the governor’s estate? Do I simply go down the main street?”

  The cities in this world all had many times the number of buildings they had in Cross Reverie, with the roads being far more winding. And Diablo couldn’t read the signs, either. The game only had the buildings the players absolutely needed, and the number of people passing by was minimal, too, which was understandable, but...

  Rem shook her head.

  “...The main street on this side of the walls is a dead end leading to the wealthy merchants’ warehouses. The central main street is a shopping district, too. It does have inns, though.”

  “Mm?”

  “...We’re currently in the northern district of Caliture, and the road leading to the central district, where the governor’s estate is, is through the small road to the side of that big building over there.”

  “That’s weird!” Shera smiled.

  “...That said, that road gets a lot of people passing through and means going around through the western district. The locals just use the underground path.”

  “Underground path?!”

  Rem pointed ahead to what looked like a subway station’s entrance. Locals who didn’t carry much on hand were passing through it.

  “...It’s a bit hard to notice when you’re not used to the place.”

  “It’s not a bit hard to notice! It looks like a dungeon!”

  Diablo had to agree with Shera on that point.

  “There’s no way around having these passes, though.” Rem shrugged. “Caliture is built over three slopes, and the underground path takes you to the second floor of the central district.”

  Why the heck is it so convoluted? What is this, Osaka Station?

  “Well, you can leave the getting around to me. We should reach the governor’s estate before it gets too da...”

  But just as they were about to get going, a group of six male Pantherians approached them, led by one with a mohawk haircut.

  “Hey there, bro. You a slave merchant or somethin’?”

  Their gazes fell on the collars around Rem and Shera’s necks.

  Been a while since I’ve had to deal with bozos like these guys...

  Rem ignored them by turning her back.

  “...Don’t spare them any attention. Let’s just go.”

  “Hey! Wait up!”

  The mohawk Pantherian reached his hand out to grab—surprisingly enough—Shera. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist.

  “Ow?!”

  “How dare you...!”

  Diablo reflexively reached out to push the Pantherian aside, but... bang! His palm heel sank squarely into the Pantherian’s chest, sending him hurtling away.

  Crap! I put too much force into that!

  The mohawk Pantherian was sent flying ten meters across the gate plaza, with the remaining five turning bloodshot, glaring eyes at them.

  “Why, you...!” “You did it now!” “We’ll waste you!”

  Rem heaved a deep sigh, rubbing her eyes tiredly. They hadn’t been in town for five minutes and they were in trouble already.

  But there was no helping what had already been done. Diablo thought this as Shera hid behind him.

  “Heheheh... I am no slave merchant, but a Demon Lord hailing from another world! Come at me if you don’t value your lives!”

  Though it seemed there was no daunting them when all the blood went to their heads like this, and the group of Pantherians charged at him, spouting war cries. Their levels seemed relatively high for thugs, with all of them being level 40 or so. They weren’t weak, but that was about it. Diablo was currently over level 100 just as a warrior, exceeding the limit of the races. Even a group of level 40s couldn’t stand a chance against him.

  He averted a second punch with a wave of the hand, and stepping forward to knock his opponent off balance, socked him straight in the face with a jab. Pulling back his arm, he nailed the third Pantherian with an elbow to the jaw, and then wheeled around to plant a kick in the stomach of the fourth one, who tried to sneak up on him from behind.

  Compared to the Demon Overlord Modinaram and the Swordmaster Sasara, they looked like they were moving in slow motion. What took the most effort out of him in this fight was refraining from putting too much strength into his blows.

  The remaining Pantherian wobbled away fearfully.

  “H-He’s strooong...!”

  “No, you’re just weak. I’ll spare your lives, so never try messing with visitors again. Or would you have me show you how serious I can be?”

  “Eeeep?! I’m sorry!” He screamed and ran off, leaving his friends behind.

  “What a bother...” Diablo shrugged.

  “Wow! Thank you! I was scared, Diablo!” Shera leaped at him excitedly again.

  You do know you could probably beat them on your own, right? You’re a level 80 archer. And you have a full set of gear enchanted by the Demon Lord Krebskulm.

  But just as he thought that, Rem tugged hard at hi
s cloak.

  “We have to run!”

  “Huh?”

  And then he saw it—the gate guards were heading their way, having noticed the ruckus. Diablo didn’t think he had done anything wrong, but sticking around for a questioning meant they’d only get going when it would be too late to visit the governor.

  Abiding by Rem’s advice, he decided to run. Holding Shera in his arms, he took off into the underground passage. Rushing down the staircase, he found it branched into three roads right off the bat.

  “Over here!”

  “This is seriously a maze!”

  Disappearing into the crowd, Diablo ran down the passageway.

  †

  Once they made their way out of the underground passage, they were indeed on the second floor of a building. Looking down from the window, they saw the main street on the first floor.

  “...That’s the governor’s estate.” Rem pointed at one building that stood like a castle among the short residences.

  Influential people have a thing for tall places...

  The estate also had a tower with a familiar shape.

  “Is that a barrier tower?”

  “In Faltra, the two places are separate, but in Caliture, the mage’s guild is integrated into the governor’s estate.”

  It seemed the relationship between the two was that close here. They continued through a corridor set up beside a small store and then down the stairway, finally setting foot in the central district... only to be surrounded by unusual people.

  All of them were Pantherians, and they were all noticeably well built. Just their poses made it clear they were strong, and there were over twenty of them.

  “Tch... Friends of those fools from earlier?”

  Diablo reached for his pouch. He didn’t want to use magic in the middle of town, but fighting bare-handed against this many people was dangerous.

  “...Not you guys,” Rem said with an extremely displeased voice.

  The Pantherian leading the group had an unusual head. Most male Pantherians looked essentially Human, except that they had cat ears and tails. But rarely, some Pantherians were born with panther heads, though it was said that, despite their different appearance, they were still normal on the inside.

  That panther-faced one was larger than the rest of the group and considerably more bulky than Diablo. He was probably a grappler, judging from his well-trained fists, and a fairly high level one, at that.

  Diablo was already in his range, so if he let down his guard for even a moment, the Pantherian could reach out and snap his neck. And so Diablo honed his concentration. The panther-faced one then curled his lips up in a smirk, and lowered his head at once.

  “Welcome home, young miss!”

  He bowed his head respectfully toward Rem. The others acted the same, bending down to a perpendicular angle to bow before her.

  “Welcome home!” “Young miss!” “We’ve been looking forward to your return!”

  The passersby were staring at them curiously. A young boy pointed at the sight, only to be carried off swiftly by his mother. Some shady-looking men turned around and ran in the other direction.

  “...See...” Rem stammered, her face flushed red. “This is why I... didn’t want to come back here...”

  Diablo and Shera exchanged glances.

  Young miss?

  The panther-faced one then turned to speak to Diablo.

  “Did you bring the young miss here, good sir?”

  “I assume you know Rem?”

  “The assistant instructor wishes to see you. Could you come along with us?”

  “What poor soul calls for my presence?”

  “...They’re all apprentices of the Gadou clan.” Rem parted her lips bitterly. “And the assistant instructor is... my aunt.”

  “You still have living relatives?!”

  Rem hung her head.

  “...I’d intended to leave my hometown behind me.”

  The panther-faced one shook his feline head in denial.

  “Perish the thought. A day hasn’t gone by without the assistant instructor worrying over you, young miss.”

  A clapping sound rang out as Shera brought her hands together.

  “Right, didn’t you promise to tell me what the Gadou clan was, Rem?!”

  Everyone else froze up at this markedly untactful comment. Even if they did have that kind of promise, she shouldn’t have mentioned it now in front of the apprentices.

  “Good friend, the Gadou clan refers to those studying the Gadou style of martial arts,” the panther-faced one answered gently. “The instructors are as our parents, our fellow apprentices are as brothers and sisters, and through those relationships, we form a bond stronger than family.”

  “Oooh.” Shera nodded with an expression that made it clear she didn’t really get it.

  Rem declared flatly,

  “They’re pretty much the yakuza.”

  Whoa... Diablo found himself mentally backing away.

  †

  The sun set below the mountains’ ridgelines.

  They were in a courtyard in one corner of the central district. The premises were surrounded by a fence so high it reminded Diablo of a prison. A bonfire illuminated the area in the center. They passed through the gate surrounded by a group of men. As they did, half-naked apprentices in the middle of training noticed their approach, rising to greet them with a start.

  “Welcome back!”

  They’re so sultry...

  Compared to these people, the Kobolds’ presence was calming. Diablo never was too good with jocks... To say nothing of actual yakuza.

  “Hmph...”

  Diablo stuck to his nonchalant Demon Lord-ly attitude, but inside, he was positively shivering.

  “Hiyaaah!”

  The one who screamed, however, was Shera. Diablo almost jumped from the surprise, and turned his gaze to see what had happened—

  Only to be faced with the incomprehensible sight of a woman clinging to Shera’s hips, rubbing her fingers over them.

  “My, my... What a lovely butt. If I didn’t know better, I never would have imagined you’d be an Elf.”

  When did she creep up on us?!

  The only ones around them right now were the men, but this woman slipped through the encirclement and sneaked up on Shera in the span of a single moment.

  What is this, super speed?! Instant Transmission?! It can’t be anything that cliché, can it?

  The woman had black hair with a pair of black cat ears sitting atop her head: a Pantherian. Except Pantherians typically had orange hair with yellow and black spots, but this woman was a rare example of a black Pantherian.

  In other words, she was the same as Rem. The same Rem who currently raised her voice in an angry rebuke.

  “Let go of her, Auntie!”

  Upon being called “Auntie,” the woman recoiled. Albeit with her right hand still glued to Shera’s buttocks.

  “N-No... Remmie, is this your rebellious phase? I can’t believe this. I always thought you were clever, but now you’ve become a little hooligan...”

  “I’ve become nothing of the sort. Get your hands off of Shera. Do I have to get mad at you?”

  “Only if you call me ‘Big Sis Solami.’”

  Diablo had finally gotten a handle on his bearings. This woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere, but he had to defend the girls!

  “Unhand Shera this instant!”

  He reached out to this woman called Solami (apparently Rem’s aunt), intending to slap her arm away. That said, Diablo still wasn’t used to touching women. He only reached out, not actually touching her.

  Solami giggled.

  “My. Quite the good intuition you’ve got.”

  “What?!”

  Electricity crackled around her body, dispersing into the air.

  《Lightning Cloak》!?

  A martial art that converted SP into a layer of electricity that covered the user’s body that dealt damage to anyone who touched them
. However, its active time was short. That martial art wasn’t all that unusual in and of itself... Except Solami had been groping Shera’s behind since the moment she appeared, and Shera hadn’t taken any damage.

  So she used Lightning Cloak on every part of her body except for her right arm? Is that even possible?!

  There was no doubting she was skilled on a level Diablo couldn’t immediately comprehend.

  “Heheheh...” Solami eyed him kindly. “Shouldn’t you save her, friend?”

  “Aaaahiiii...” Shera twisted and writhed her body with tears in her eyes.

  It looked like Shera only had her hips fondled, but apparently something was preventing her from moving away.

  Is there some kind of martial art that prevents the target from moving?

  “Hmph...” Diablo did his best to hide his agitation. “Those are some odd skills you employ. I understand that you are Rem’s aunt and the assistant instructor here.”

  “Hey, now. You mustn’t call an older woman ‘aunt’ or anything like that. Call me ‘Big Sis Solami.’”

  She spoke with the kind, calm tone of a sweet older sister. Except... No, there was no such sister. It was just an illusion of what an older sister would be like. Yet, still, there was no doubting how skilled she was.

  The people surrounding Diablo’s group had all taken their distance. In other words, this was no accident, but a premeditated incident. Diablo had no idea what their objective here was, though.

  No... A single thought surfaced in his mind.

  Did I just walk into a yakuza family’s stronghold after putting an Enslavement Collar on their daughter?!

  Diablo was sweating bullets of cold sweat. Rem probably didn’t quite realize it, but this was one hell of a mess they had just walked into!

  Aaaah... W-Wait, calm down! You have your Demon Lord role play for times like these.

  Right now, I’m Diablo.

  I am Diablo.

  The Demon Lord, Diablo!

  “Heh... Heheheh... Interesting tricks, Solami.”

  “My, my.” She giggled. “Now that’s a good look in your eyes.”

  “It matters not who you are nor what you aim to achieve, but she belongs to me! Know that, should you harm a hair upon her head, your life is forfeit!”