How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord: Volume 11

by Yukiya Murasaki

  “It’s fine.”

  He’d have wanted to say something a bit more tasteful, but what does a Demon Lord say in this situation? The Demon Lords Diablo knew all accepted heroes’ challenges and struck fear into the heart of man. They didn’t get found out after accidentally giving a girl the wrong wedding ring...

  But he did show understanding. What should a Demon Lord say when in this situation with this girl? He knew he was the one who should be apologizing here, but his voice simply wouldn’t come out when the moment arrived. It was frustrating.

  “...You should have this, Diablo.” Rem slipped the ring from her finger. “It’s proof of your bond with Shera.”

  “Y-Yeah...”

  Diablo was vexed, but accepted the ring from Rem. She was seemingly composed, but her heart was probably storming on the inside. All he’d been doing was making her angry and sad all the time. But this time was different.

  Because I have the new wedding rings I had made for us in Faltra!

  Diablo reached for his pouch.

  “...Come to think of it, there was no reason for us to get married, was there?” Rem wiped her eyes.

  “Huh?!”

  “...This is a memento.” Rem showed the gauntlets she was always using. “My father was the former head instructor of the Gadou clan. And he fell in love with my mother at first sight when he found her fleeing because of the Demon Lord’s soul she carried... Which was how I came to be.

  “The former head instructor passed away, and his younger brother took the position, with his younger sister Solami taking over as assistant instructor.”

  “He must have certainly been strong.”

  “Yes, very... But he covered for me, and took a blow from a Fallen wielding a sword of fire and ice... If the Demon Lord’s soul wasn’t sealed in my body, that never would have happened...”

  “I see.”

  “...I lived my life, thinking of nothing but how to destroy the Demon Lord’s soul. And even though that wish ended up being granted differently than I imagined, you were the one who made it happen, Diablo.”

  “Mm.”

  “It’s my family’s wish, dating back for generations. What more could I wish for?”

  “That’s...”

  “...And even without rings, we’re still companions, right?”

  “Oh, of course.”

  He could do nothing but nod. Diablo wasn’t the type to feel happy about having goodwill directed at him. In Shera’s case, had he let things be, she’d have married another Elf, and he knew she didn’t want to be with that man.

  That was why Diablo acted. Snatching a bride away from the altar is a Demon Lord-ly thing to do, and of course, he wasn’t particularly opposed to being married to Shera. He thought he’d be happy about that.

  But just the same, he couldn’t help but ask himself, “Is a pillbug like me really worthy of marrying Shera?!” And because of that, Diablo couldn’t speak frankly, even now.

  The same held true for Rem. Her body was being controlled by the Demon Overlord, forcing her to attack important people and fight Diablo. She was filled with despair, thinking she deserved to disappear for causing so much trouble. And so Diablo gave her the wedding ring, to prove that it wasn’t so.

  “...You forced yourself to do that for me because you’re too kind, Diablo,” Rem said with a stiff smile. “I wasn’t in my right mind at the time, after all.”

  “N-No...”

  That was one reason for it, but still.

  “...It’s fine. One normally wouldn’t harbor romantic feelings for someone of another race to begin with.”

  “Really?!”

  Maybe it was because he came from another world? Diablo was a Demon, but he was super attracted to Rem, who was a Pantherian, and Shera, an Elf, as well as other women. He thought they were all alluring.

  Even what he did just now—wait, no, that was Outglow training!

  Maybe what he was feeling toward them wasn’t romantic affection? Thinking things over again, maybe it was just lust? What did romantic feelings even mean?

  What kind of feeling was “love,” really...?

  “I don’t know.”

  “...What’s the matter, Diablo?”

  “Forget about me. This is about you! Aren’t you, erm... overthinking this?”

  “...I’ve just finally calmed down, that’s all. It’s like I’ve been in a dream for a long time. I’ve burdened you for so long, but could you forgive me?”

  ”That’s... Yes, of course.”

  “...Thank you.” Rem smiled with relief.

  Despite his denials, Diablo couldn’t find it in himself to give her the wedding ring.

  Chapter 4: Ending a War

  The following day, year 165 of the Lyferian calendar, first month, 22nd day—

  Diablo and his group visited the governor’s estate. In Lyferia, governors also doubled as military commanders, and so Faltra’s and Zircon Tower’s governors, Galford and Laminitus, were both skilled in combat.

  Caliture’s governor, however, was a sea lion.

  That wasn’t to say he was part of a race that had sea lion features. He was just a really fat, round Human. His large table was stacked with quite the luxurious meal despite it only being breakfast.

  “Oh! You’re those adventurers sent from the palace. Well met! Come, come, sit down. It’s almost time for second breakfast.”

  “...Second breakfast?” Rem tilted her head.

  “We’ve already had breakfast,” Shera said, smiling wryly.

  The Gadou clan’s breakfasts were lavish in their own right. They served meat, and meat, and more meat... Just looking at it made Diablo and Shera get heartburn, but Rem ate away as if it was natural.

  “You don’t need breakfast?” Caliture’s governor looked beside himself with surprise. “Are you feeling under the weather? You should certainly watch for your health. I recommend this herb tea. It does wonders for lack of appetite!”

  Rem bowed and moved the conversation along.

  “...I am called Rem, an adventurer... I’m a summoner.”

  She intentionally left out her last name, Galleu, and stressed that she was a summoner.

  “A sorcerer?” The governor cocked his head curiously. “Not a grappler?”

  “...Yes.”

  He eyed her with surprise. Black-haired Pantherians were likely associated with the Gadou clan in this town.

  “...This is Diablo. You can think of him as a sorcerer.” Rem continued the introductions.

  “I see, I see.”

  “...And this here is Shera. She’s an arch—”

  “Summoner!” Shera cut into Rem’s words, pressing a hand against her sizable bosoms.

  Rem shoved her shoulder against her and whispered,

  “...You can only summon Turkey Shot. You’re a level 80 archer, and since you studied under the swordmaster, you might be a level 80 warrior, too.”

  “Then you’re a grappler. Solami said you have the talent for it.”

  “...Unlike you, I haven’t been neglecting my studies as a sorcerer. I may have reached level 80 already.”

  “Let’s check at the Adventurer’s Guild! Maybe I’m higher than you already!”

  “Impossible.”

  As their argument grew louder, Diablo coughed dryly, which silenced the two. Caliture’s governor began his second breakfast, opening his mouth to speak as he stuffed himself full of bacon.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of me from His Majesty, but I am Lieutenant General Hyde Ray Matis.”

  First I’ve heard of you.

  Diablo and the others looked away dodgingly. They’d been informed of the beasts and the spriggan, but told nothing of Caliture’s governor or the garrison. The king and the minister didn’t really put much importance on the matter.

  So, how do I ask him...?

  He made a promise to the Kobolds, and Boldboss had put his trust in him. He wanted to keep Fennely safe, too. He needed to have Matis, Caliture’s governor, ackn
owledge their right to live in the mountain.

  As Diablo sank into thought, Rem cut to the point.

  “...Governor, may I ask you something?”

  “Mm? Do you want some bacon, dear?”

  “...No, this isn’t about food. It’s about the Kobolds.”

  Letting her handle negotiations would be wise, it seemed. Diablo would either anger or frighten him, so this would be the smoothest way to approach this.

  “Kobolds?” Matis stopped moving his fork. “What’s that?”

  “...Those would be the Therianthropes.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, I care little for how you distinguish those monsters. Caliture mines silver from the northern mountain. Or rather, we want to mine it, but those creatures keep attacking the miners, who can’t go about their work in peace.”

  “...Silver? That’s the first we’ve heard of this.”

  “I don’t think His Majesty cares much for the matter. All over the country, when monsters attack the races, he has them subjugated.”

  The Kobolds haven’t said a word about it, either. They likely didn’t care why the races came to their mountain, and even if they knew, it wouldn’t have changed anything.

  “...What if the Kobolds were to promise not to attack the miners anymore?” Rem asked.

  “What are you implying?”

  “...Will you acknowledge their right to live in the mountain?”

  Matis laughed out loud, holding his round belly with both hands.

  “I have to say, adventurers from the capital are really something. Even your jokes are top grade. They can’t understand the races’ language. They only howl and bark. What promises can they make?”

  That was simply how the races saw the Therianthropes. Rem didn’t back down, though.

  “That’s not true. There’s someone who can converse with them.”

  “Truly?” Matis said, his face streaked with surprise.

  “Yes.”

  “Do bring them over, then. I’m sure they’ll make for quite the spectacle.”

  “What?!”

  “Don’t take it the wrong way. I appreciate philanthropy that extends even to wildlife, but you can’t make a military policy out of that. Some of the people are anxious just living alongside the demis, so can you expect them to trust the Therianthropes? My job is to do away with the monsters getting in the way of the silver mine.”

  “...But the Kobolds don’t want to fight you either.”

  “Do you hesitate to pull out weeds when you plough a field? Do you pity a deer when you go out to hunt? I agree that life is precious, but not enough so to put the lives of the populace at risk. That’s my obvious duty as governor, no?”

  “...I... suppose that’s right.”

  His reasoning was sound. As off-putting as his appearance may have been, he was still an official in charge of territory.

  “We couldn’t oppose the spriggan with our equipment.” Matis shrugged. “Thanks to that, we lost four citadels, but I hear you folks may be capable of dealing with it. In several days, reinforcements should arrive from the capital. Ten thousand men, accompanied by the Palace Knights. We have other forces prepared—not to worry, by the next time we sortie, we will be able to exterminate the beasts! And since we can win, we’ve no reason to back down. I’m one for clearing out any plate placed before me.”

  “...I see.” Rem hung her head in a vexed fashion.

  It didn’t work. The governor Matis only saw the Kobolds as “beasts that lay waste to the silver mine.” And indeed, there was no reason to compromise when one was confident they could win without much effort.

  Stopping a war doesn’t come that easy, does it? But what do I do? How can I save the Kobolds?

  “Diablo...” Shera, who had kept quiet until now, looked to be on the verge of tears.

  “Hmph... Leave it all to me.”

  But Diablo didn’t have any ideas.

  †

  It once again started to rain. The weather only cleared up four days later, and early that morning, they were immediately informed of their deployment and ordered to exterminate the beasts. Despite having his objections, Diablo wasn’t in a position to argue.

  Leaving Caliture’s garrisoned forces in the city, the governor set out with a few select troops and Diablo’s group. They then spent the night in an inn town.

  The next day, they regrouped with the ten thousand men that had arrived from the capital. The forces’ commanders saluted, to which Matis responded in kind.

  “Good work.”

  Incidentally, no horse could support Matis’s weight, so he was carried around in a carriage that was modified to have very large doors. He rested on a large seat that was more a bed than it was a chair, taking up the space of three people.

  A man stepped forward from the formation, wearing a cloak that had a familiar emblem on it.

  “You’re not really my type. Oh well, I suppose I should get to work. A pleasure to meet you, governor of Caliture.”

  The Order of Palace Knights. And the man was a familiar face, as well. His hair was long, his lips were thick, and his muscular body was clad in crimson armor.

  “Gewalt?!” Rem’s eyes widened.

  “Oh... We meet again, munchkin.” He winked at Rem.

  He was someone they’d fought once, so Shera shrieked as she ran for cover behind Diablo’s back. If he recalled, this was the former paladin who attacked Lumachina. Diablo blew him away with a 《Cross Blizzard》, but he was persistent, only to attack them again in the Demon Lord’s Labyrinth...

  Because of him, Horn fell into a waterway, and Diablo lost several precious pieces of EX-rarity equipment to save her. And from what Rem said, he betrayed the church (or rather, the Cardinal Authority) and defected to the Order of Palace Knights.

  “Hmph...” Diablo scoffed at him. “I hear you’ve been skulking about, but now you’re that four-eyed macho-man’s lackey?”

  “Yes, I... I fell in love.”

  The very definition of too much information.

  “Oh, you know each other?” Matis cut into the conversation. “We’ll be fighting together going forward, so do get along. I apologize for rushing things after you’ve come from afar, but His Majesty’s deadline for the extermination is fast approaching. In addition, it’s currently the rainy season here in the southern frontier, and I’d much prefer to finish this mountain hunt while it’s still sunny.”

  They’d be working on a tight schedule, but apparently they were to set out as soon as they regrouped.

  Rem spread out a small map.

  “...The town is over here. This is our trail... and this is the mine.”

  The Kobolds’ village was in the mountain where the silver mine was.

  “We just need to find the beasts and slay them, right? Do we really need ten thousand men for something that simple?”

  “The buggers have a way of appearing when you least expect it.” Matis sighed. “We can try to strike at their dens, but kill a few and more of them show up. Nipping them in the bud isn’t as simple as it sounds. And,” Matis appended grandly, “we mustn’t forget the spriggan!”

  At those words, Gewalt burst into laughter.

  “Heheheh... I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I believe you’ve been informed of how our arrival was delayed because the highway had caved in, yes? Upon closer inspection, we found fragments of the spriggan.”

  “Fragments?!”

  “Looks like somebody already defeated it.”

  Gewalt directed an almost sticky glance at Diablo, who had clicked his tongue internally. Now they’d believe the Kobolds’ forces were even weaker, making the peace talks even harder—and Diablo was the cause of it all.

  “Kuh...”

  Gewalt walked up to him and whispered:

  “Heheh... You’ve become king of Greenwood and enough of a hero that your name has reached the capital, and you’re still trying to hide your achievemen
ts? Is that your kink or something? Or maybe... You have other reasons to hide it.”

  “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Diablo glared at him. “It will cost you your life.”

  “Will it, now? Fine, you do you, then. But I do ask that you stay out of my way. I just want to finish this little errand in the boonies and go back to the capital so Max can compliment me. ♪”

  Max was probably his nickname for Maximum Abrams, captain of the Order of Palace Knights. Diablo certainly didn’t want to antagonize him if he could avoid it.

  †

  Slightly before sunset, the subjugation party began setting up camp on the mountain’s outskirts. Matis was eating even as they marched and held war councils, but the soldiers needed a break to eat, too. Rem opened the map again.

  “...If we walk straight for three hours, we should reach the village.”

  “The mountain’s really big!” Shera exclaimed, peeking into the map over Rem’s shoulder.

  “...It is. Still, it’s hard to tell where one can mine silver from. A specialist needs to spend time inspecting the area to find a spot where large-scale mining can take place.”

  And to do that, the mountain needs to be secure. The Human side’s complaints weren’t without reason, but...

  Diablo was called to the headquarters, which was a large tent. He’d once visited a slave merchant in Faltra, and the tent was reminiscent of that. There was a large pillar in the center of the tent, with a candlestick fixed to it for illumination. Beneath it was Matis, or rather, the rickshaw carrying him. In the forest he rode in a large horse-drawn carriage, which couldn’t fit in the tent. It was impossible for him to walk any long distance with his sea-lion-like physique, however, so he was being moved about on a rickshaw, which was moved by the soldiers who served as his guards.

  They were currently on leave, and he sat on top of the still rickshaw, chewing on something, as usual.

  “Omnom... Good work today. No attack from the beasts yet... But keep your guard up. They often attack during the night.”

  Gewalt was, as expected, in the headquarters tent.

  “Heheh... We’re a ways off from the highway, so the beasts’ nest could be anywhere.”