The tiny faerie had a voice that carried far. For Ranok — the Second-in-Command of the Demon Clan, widely regarded as the most powerful of their kind — it had been a very long time since he’d encountered a being that dared raise its voice at him like this.
Honestly, it was refreshing. And shocking. So Ranok didn’t kill the faerie. He simply watched it.
What was refreshing was the faerie’s attitude. What was shocking was what the faerie was saying.
Fell apart? Those two?
“Why…….”
He couldn’t understand it.
The faerie had been shrieking at him in the face of his blank, emotionless stare — trembling with fear even as it raged — but as though his lack of reaction had given it courage, it let out one final roar.
— Take responsibility, you bastard!
Take responsibility.
Take responsibility.
Take responsibility.
The faerie’s voice echoed loudly over the crackling backdrop of the burning carriage.
The Hero and the Demon King.
Casioth and Gerard.
Two names that had left far too deep a mark on his past life — names he could never forget because of it.
And they were also the ones who had made him resolve himself to die.
The reason was simple. He had believed that if he died, they would be happy.
But those two fell apart because of me? Because I disappeared? Take responsibility because it’s my fault?
……Why? The judgment I made in that final moment was perfect.
Even now, thinking back on it, his death had been utterly, completely perfect.
Inexpressibly so.
Perfect enough that he had died smiling.
So he couldn’t understand it. Why they had become unhappy. Why the world had broken.
But as though to prove that the world doesn’t flow according to calculations, the prince’s memories were forcing a cruelly painful reality upon him.
His plan had failed. Completely.
“Your Highness!”
Ranok, who had been standing there in a daze, snapped to his senses at the booming voice.
In the distance, a group that appeared to be knights was approaching.
“Your Highness! You’re safe!”
The one who appeared to be the knight commander looked thoroughly flustered at the sight of Ranok — who looked as though he had been flung from the carriage and rolled every which way.
Ranok released the faerie he had been holding in his hand up until that moment.
The men didn’t seem to notice the faerie at all; they didn’t spare it a glance as they approached Ranok and bowed hastily.
“Are you unharmed?”
“……You can see for yourself.”
He gave it brief consideration, but Ranok decided against volunteering the information that he was not the prince, but a Demon Clan member who had died ten years ago.
It seemed the better choice.
The knight commander looked at the dead bodies and the wrecked carriage, seemed to take stock of the situation, and promptly gave a formal salute.
“It appears there has been an incident. It is my failing that I was unable to provide Your Highness with full protection. I will have another carriage prepared at once.”
From there, things moved swiftly. The knights began clearing the scene in a hurry, as if worried someone might see, and a new carriage materialized in almost no time at all.
“Please let us know if you are in any discomfort. We will summon a priest immediately.”
It was all handled without a single hitch — as though it had been prepared in advance. Whoever had commissioned today’s work appeared to be someone of very meticulous character. That fact was not particularly welcome.
Ranok, who had been watching the knight in silence, shook his head.
“Never mind.”
The knight commander didn’t ask twice.
“Escort His Highness!”
The knights helped Ranok into a carriage bearing the imperial family’s crest.
As if by prior agreement, no one asked the prince for a detailed account of what had happened. Even looking at the prince’s disheveled appearance, the missing attendants who had been traveling with him, and the two suspicious corpses — enough to guess the rough outline of events — not one of them said a word.
And yet they made a show of attending to him respectfully while making no attempt to even check a single wound, brushing it all off with a single perfunctory question. What on earth did that mean?
It seemed the current situation of Milano Mortiel was no different from the sorry state he currently looked.
— Hmph, lucky you. I sent you into that body because the resonance of your souls matched well and the timing happened to line up — and of all things, you end up as a prince. Lucky indeed.
The faerie, which had boarded the carriage right alongside him, was being sarcastic.
Lucky? The absurdity of it made Ranok let out a small, dry laugh.
— Why are you laughing?
“Does this really look good to you?”
Ranok lifted both arms. His clothes were torn, blood was seeping through, and parts of him were even singed — to anyone’s eye, he did not look like a lucky man.
If anything, he looked more like someone who had suffered a mortifying defeat.
The faerie seemed to agree, at least, that Ranok’s state was a mess; it was flustered for a moment, then gave a dismissive sniff.
— It’s only like this right now. From here on out……
“From here on out, what?”
What, exactly, was going to get better about this body’s situation going forward?
At Ranok’s question, the faerie fell silent.
Being possessed as a prince, of all things — in one sense, you could call that quite lucky. That is, if he had been an ordinary, run-of-the-mill prince.
But unfortunately, Milano Mortiel was no ordinary prince.
He was a prince who had been cast off by his kingdom. He had been completely and utterly defeated in a succession struggle that hadn’t even been much of a contest, and handed off to the empire as a hostage like excess baggage.
In the process, even his life had been threatened — and it had ultimately led to his death. It was only that Ranok had slipped into the empty body in that gap, making it appear as though he were alive; the reckless prince had died today.
And the number of people who had been complicit in that death was clearly more than one or two, at a glance.
Just moments ago, the knight commander’s face upon seeing Ranok alive had been one of unmistakable surprise — the kind that came from wondering why a hostage who was, nominally at least, precious, had not died as expected.
He had been so flustered that he hadn’t even paused to wonder who the culprit might be, and instead focused entirely on getting Ranok into the carriage as quickly as possible.
The corner of Ranok’s mouth twisted.
Setting aside the current situation that was filling his head with complications, at least this one thing was perfectly clear.
Just look at it now. Despite nominally being in the middle of escorting a distinguished guest, the knights surrounding the carriage were blocking off the surroundings with the stern severity of men transporting a criminal.
Not to protect a prince whose life had just been threatened — but as though worried the prince might try to escape.
But a threat to his life from humans was not something that concerned Ranok greatly.
Ranok reached out and snatched the faerie that was flitting around him as if in a panic.
— Squawk.
“Talk.”
The faerie flapped its wings furiously at being manhandled by Ranok again.
— You insolent thing! If you treat a faerie so carelessly——!
“Not interested.”
Whether his soul became tainted or cursed from treating a faerie carelessly — none of that frightened him.
What Ranok feared most was confirming the reality that the two people who should have become happy through his death had instead become unhappy.
“Explain.”
But just because he was afraid didn’t mean he could run from it. Ranok had to know.
And if he had to know, then naturally, those around him had to help him understand. Even if that meant a faerie — the natural counterpart to the Demon Clan.
Back when he had reigned as the strongest Demon Clan member in the world — and yet had willingly made himself Gerard’s instrument and chosen to die at the hands of a young mercenary — it had felt only natural.
Back when he had believed his life was brilliant. Back when it truly had been.
Second-in-Command of the Demon Clan. Being the second most powerful among the countless members of the Demon Clan was, without question, a rather dazzling and splendid thing. Countless Demon Clan members bowed their heads to him, submitted to his strength, trembled, and feared him.
He reigned, he dominated, he was revered. But at the same time, he was dominated, and he had someone to revere.
Unfortunately, he had a Demon King to look after. A very dear Demon King who had to be served and attended to.
“Ranok! Ranok! Ranoook!”
Ranok, who had been sleeping cradled in shadows, would regularly be woken from sleep by that loud, boisterous voice calling for him.
“……Ah.”
I was sleeping so well. Ranok furrowed his brow at having his sound sleep interrupted, but got his body moving.
“Ranoooook~!”
There was only one being in existence who could call for him in a voice loud enough to make the entire Demon King’s castle ring.
The black shadows that slid up his body rose of their own accord, propping him upright and dressing him without him having to move a muscle.
“Ranok!”
“Coming, coming.”
The shadows led him to the room at the very top of the Demon King’s castle. The life of a Second-in-Command was this grueling.
Ranok, who had been drawn into the darkness, arrived in an instant at Demon King Gerard’s room.
High above the hundredth floor — the very top of the Demon King’s castle — floated a vast island suspended by magical energy, and within it, the largest and most beautiful room at its innermost point: that was Gerard’s bedchamber.
A room Ranok had furnished piece by piece with care when Gerard was born. He had decorated it to cut an impressive figure befitting a Demon King’s dignity — but Gerard had later demanded that dolls be placed inside, so for a Demon King’s personal space, it had ended up being rather charming and whimsical.
That was where Demon King Gerard was.
In other words — he was, first and foremost, Ranok’s superior. And at the same time, he was the precious treasure Ranok had raised with doting care from the moment he was born.
The precious one, who had been fidgeting anxiously on the balcony of that room, caught sight of Ranok when he appeared — his face lit up for just a moment before crumpling into something near tears.
“Ranoook!”
In the same voice that had been calling for Ranok so desperately this whole time, Gerard came dashing over — and forgetting that he now stood taller than Ranok, threw himself into Ranok’s arms.
Whether his master did that or not, Ranok patted Gerard on the back and let out a long, lazy yawn.
“Gerard, what is it this time?”
“Ranok! Why did you take so long to come?!”
I came running the moment you called.
But as a subordinate, he couldn’t very well say that, so Ranok simply sighed.
