Yukikaze Storms In
——Main Street, the Holy City.
(I really have been overwhelmed lately...)
For the first time in a while, the Demon Lord was walking through the city alone. He enjoyed the carefree activity of strolling around alone, as fast or as slow as he wanted. With Aku or Luna, he couldn’t help but match their pace. His strides were much wider, after all. The Demon Lord’s physicality was top-notch in addition to his skills. Needless to say, his entire body was built like steel, but he also stood as tall as a model at 6’2’’. At the end of the day, he was an attractive man. Even when he was just walking down the street... he was noticeable.
“...I finally found you, Silver Fox.”
“What!? Demon Lord!? Why!?”
He noticed the pair of adventurers he had met a few times before. One of them was a warrior with sporty, amber skin, and the other was a mage with alabaster skin. In a way, they were the two extremes of outdoor enthusiast and agoraphobe.
“Oh. It’s been a while.”
Even though he instinctively replied with some fake, implied undertone, he didn’t even remember their names. Considering the hurricane that was his life recently, who could have blamed him? It’s not like people had business cards to exchange in this world.
(Hm... Business cards, huh? That could be a hit.)
After thinking so much about money lately, a business idea naturally popped up in his head. In reality, the only thing the village of Rabbi produced was carrots. It wasn’t too bad of an idea to consider other products to manufacture.
“...Mister Fox. What are you doing in the Holy City?”
“A little errand at the Adventurers’ Guild.”
“...At the guild? What do you want to know?”
“About the dungeons up north, for example.”
In reality, he wanted to know about items that protected against magic, but that wasn’t something he wanted to spread all over town. That would only advertise his weakness.
“...The workers know little about other countries. I will teach you.”
“Hold on, Yukikaze! Slow down a little!”
“...Then go home, Mikan. Go be a bag of pecans.”
“Who’re you calling nuts!?”
(Alright. Yukikaze and Mikan, huh?)
As yuki meant snow and mikan meant tangerine in Japanese, their appearance seemed to reflect their names, making them easy to remember. Internally, the Demon Lord named this pair Yukimikan, or snow-tangerine.
“...There’s a great place down the street, Mister Fox. As thanks for everything you’ve done, it’s my treat.”
“I told you before, there’s no need to thank me for it.”
“...Yes. You said it was something important.”
“That’s right.”
As soon as the Demon Lord had said this, a pale hand gently grasped his. It felt like never-melting snow, glowing in a mystical white.
“...It’s still daytime, but you can drink there, too.”
“Drink, huh...?”
The Demon Lord swallowed a ball of spit. As he recently had no time to himself, his life had been rather dry during that time.
“...This way.”
“I’ll follow you. I’m not a child. You don’t need to hold my hand.”
“...No. I’ll get lost.”
(You’ll get lost!?)
The Demon Lord nearly shouted this out of character, but somehow held it in.
(This girl looks like she should be reading books in the corner of a library... But she’s acting like she’s a klutz.)
While the Demon Lord was taken aback by the difference between Yukikaze’s appearance and her attitude, she continued.
“...Lead the way, Mikan.”
“All right! Fine! I give up!”
Hearing this, the Demon Lord sensed that he wasn’t exactly welcomed by the girl called Mikan. She was calling him the Demon Lord, after all. If anything, he saw that he was feared by her.
“...Love is a labyrinth.”
(What is this girl saying...?)
The Demon Lord was taken to a bar, where a sign showed its name to be Kanpai. While it was still early in the day, the Demon Lord could hear a considerable number of guests, both male and female, engaging in drink and merriment from within.
“Three ales, over! I brought a new customer!”
“Hey, if it isn’t Mikan. It’s not every day you bring someone to...!?”
As soon as they walked in the door, the attention of the owner and every last customer was immediately focused on the Demon Lord.
(Did I do something wrong...? Wait, are these the people that were in the middle of the action during the attack?)
Seeing the Demon Lord appear out of the blue, the bar erupted in commotion. After all, he was the hero who saved their lives.
“It’s the famous Demon Lord! Good job, Mikan!”
“Oh, it’s you!”
“Come sit with us! I’ll buy you a drink!”
“Woah, who’s that?”
“You dumbass! That’s the gentleman who blew up Carnival!”
“Hey, go get everyone who isn’t doing anything!”
(Wait wait wait...)
With the patrons of the bar running to and fro, the bar was now housing a storm. All the Demon Lord wanted to do was ask a few questions about a dungeon or two. Now, he was in a whole ordeal.
“...Sit here, Mister Fox.”
“A-Alright.”
The Demon Lord followed the pair, and sat at a table by a wall. It didn’t look like this was the time and place for a quiet drink and conversation. The owner slammed the ale down on the table and thanked the Demon Lord.
“All the business owners around here can’t thank you enough. Drink all you want, it’s on the house!”
Slapping the Demon Lord’s shoulder, the owner gave a hearty laugh. She reminded him of the Madame in her energy that seemed to overwhelm even most men.
(In any case, I need a drink... Then we’ll talk.)
He reached for the pint, but Yukikaze nabbed it from him before curling up on his lap.
“What are you doing...?”
“...I’ll help you drink it, Mister Fox.”
“Sorry. I can drink it on my own.”
(Where am I, in some sort of sleazy dive?)
It looked ridiculous to have a girl on his lap in a bar in broad daylight. Yukikaze was a boy, anyway.
(In the first place, drinking has to be an uninterrupted, solitary act in freedom.)
He conjured up some craft-beer-nerd nonsense before finally taking a sip of the ale.
“Mm. That’s good.”
So good, that the Demon Lord could feel like his troubles over the past few days were only there to let him truly enjoy this pint.
As the Demon Lord was relishing his first ale in a long time, Yukikaze suddenly robbed him of his pint, and drank the whole thing.
“It’s... Sticky in my throat... Mister Fox...”
“Don’t say it like that.”
The Demon Lord was getting worn out by everyone’s dangerous use of syntax. One of these days, he thought, he would be thrown into the slammer for some crime he didn’t commit.
“...Your lips touched it, and it touched my lips. It’s bublicious.”
“Please start speaking a real language.”
“You don’t change, do you, Yukikaze? Here, brought you some things to snack on.”
“Oh, these are...”
Boiled beans that resembled edamame, egg dishes, skewered meat wrapped in leaves, and stir-fried vegetables were placed on the table. All of them looked and smelled pretty good. However, remembering that the food in Yahooo was far from exquisite, the Demon Lord mentally braced himself before popping the end of a skewer in his mouth.
“It’s actually delicious...”
“You don’t have to act so surprised,” the owner remarked.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean anything by it... I had something similar in Yahooo, and it wa
sn’t nearly this good.”
“Ah, I get it. But don’t you come to my bar and expect some street-food crap from Yahooo.”
The owner laughed boisterously and returned behind the bar. Even for the man raised in the foodie nation of Japan, these dishes were completely acceptable. When the Demon Lord was enjoying the first good food he had had in a while, Yukikaze stole the skewer right out of his hand.
“Mm... It’s thick... and slimy... Mister Fox...”
“Stop! Talking like that!” The Demon Lord finished the second round of their routine.
(She’s not a klutz, she’s just a floozy!)
But of course, Yukikaze was more of a man-whore than either of those things.
“Let’s get to business, if you don’t mind. I don’t know much about the customs around here, or anything about how adventurers function. I would appreciate a detailed explanation.”
In truth, he wanted to ask about anti-magic as soon as he could, but the Demon Lord carefully cornered the conversation by starting with the occupation of the adventurer, along with their system and the purpose of their guild. What Yukikaze described was mostly the same as what the Demon Lord had imagined adventurers to be. They even fell into the clichés of defeating monsters to earn rewards and uncover treasures from dungeons and ruins. The guild accepted quests, and took a cut of the reward through introducing each quest to the right adventurer, as well as buy monster body parts and sell it to the market, for example. Furthermore, guilds with powerful adventurers seemed to do better than others. Because of this fact, headhunting was rampant in the industry, and ranking up meant better pay and benefits for the adventurer.
(They’re kind of like professional athletes.)
The Demon Lord imagined them as professional baseball or soccer players. The best players would be scouted to different teams with competitive offers, leaving them with the liberty to choose the best offer.
“...Some turn mercenary when they can’t get quests.”
“Mercenary, huh?”
Those without that kind of strength naturally had to do anything they could to put food on the table. This aspect seemed similar to the life of a professional athlete, too.
“...Sometimes you get nothing from a dungeon, and sometimes monsters are hard to come by.”
“I figured it would be the opposite of steady income.”
Unlike those with a 9-to-5 and a set salary, the adventurers were self-employed... and literally risked their lives doing their job. Upon further explanation, it became clear that a good number of them took on day-laborer jobs, too. It was all too real and lacking in fantasy.
“...We’re at war, so a lot of people are out of work.”
“War?”
“...While we’re at war, it’s hard to take passage into the Northern Nations. They suspect spies and covert operatives.”
“So there are times when it’s peaceful.”
“...Uh-huh.”
Through the elongated battles with the Northern Nations, times of cease-fire seemed to have naturally formed. Which was only practical. There would have been no time for either side to spend on production or farming if they were at war year-round. At the end of a non-stop war like that, both sides would be left nothing more than cemeteries.
“That’s more information than I had hoped for. I appreciate it.”
“...To you, Mister Fox, I’ll tell anything.”
With that, Yukikaze glued herself to the Demon Lord. For some reason, even her hand was on his thigh. From her age and current position, she only looked like a worker and patron of some seedy nightclub.
“A-And... What kind of things do you find in the dungeons?”
“...Rub rub.”
“Stop rubbing your cheek against mine. I’m serious.”
“...I’m serious, too. I’m like Dekisugi.”
“What are you saying?”
After a considerable tooth-pulling on his part, the Demon Lord managed to ask about the type of things they find in dungeons. Generally speaking, weapons in this world are separated into five categories. The first was Common, comprised of weapons crafted by ordinary metal and animal hide. This one was pretty self-explanatory. The next was Hardcast, crafted by monster fangs, hide, scales, or the like. These, apparently, could only be made by a skilled craftsman. Then, there was Top-Tier, crafted from specific metals and materials. Humans were unable to make any of these; Dwarves, for example, were adept at crafting these weapons. After that, there was Unique, only held by a handful of S ranking adventurers. Even Yukikaze didn’t know much about these. The last category was Legendary. Luna had once bragged about it, since her staff was a Legendary.
“...We also look for undiscovered items. You can name it.”
“Oh, that’s interesting.”
“...Let’s think of a name together. Do you have any family names?”
“Like we’re an expecting couple!?”
The Demon Lord snapped back at lightning speed, but he was definitely getting knocked off of his game. While it was a problem to be straight up ignored like he was by Mikan, being too touchy like Yukikaze caused a whole other problem for him. Still, he did gain a lot from his conversation with them. Finally, the Demon Lord got to what he wanted to ask all along.
“Are there any worthwhile pieces sold in the shops, for example?”
“...Anything widely available is mass-produced. Not very effective.”
“What if budget wasn’t an issue? Like items that defend well against magic, or swords that can cut through hard scales?”
“...You need a One-of-a-Kind to protect against a class 4 or 5 spell. I think your weapon could take on any enemy, though.”
“Hm...”
In fact, Sodom’s Fire was a weapon with the highest Attack possible in the game at 50. On that note, everyone defending the Sleepless Castle had a weapon with 50 Attack, but each of them had varied effects. Sodom’s Fire burned its target, and Yu’s Grenades dealt AOE damage by default.
(In any case... I better go down to one and find out for myself.)
He couldn’t make all the decisions he needed from hearsay. It did seem necessary for him to make the trip himself. Fortunately, now that he had summoned Tahara, he had nothing to worry about when it came to leaving the village behind. In fact, the Demon Lord figured that Tahara would produce better results than he could if given full reign.
“North, huh...? Well, I’ll make the trip one day.”
“...Mister Fox. If you’re going north, take me with you.”
“Take you?”
“...I may not look it, but I’m a B ranking adventurer. I’ll come in handy.”
Yukikaze tugged on the Demon Lord’s sleeve. It did feel wise to take a guide or someone experienced in the trip with him. It would be difficult to pry the advisors away from their tasks at the village, and it was too dangerous to take any of the youngsters. Tron the Firebrand, in particular, could be hunted down as soon as she set foot outside the village.
“All right. If it’s not too much trouble, I’ll take you up on it, soon. We should always stand on giants’ shoulders, first.”
“...You can count on me. I will help you.”
With glee, Yukikaze stared right into the Demon Lord’s eyes. While she said some bizarre things now and again, she was actually a very attractive girl, the Demon Lord realized. Even though she was a boy. If her and the Demon Lord were to travel alone, people might start taking notice of the obvious kidnapping.
“...But that’s not all. If you call now, we’ll throw in Mikan at no additional cost.”
“Says you! And what do you mean, ‘throw in’!?”
“Hm... Please and thank you, then.” The Demon Lord relented.
“No thank you! You two have fun.”
“...What kind of fun? Mikan’s a naughty girl.”
“You shut your mouth, already!”
Reconnaissance
——Yahooo, Holylight.
A man was visiting the Adventurers’ Guild.
With a worn-down helmet on his head, he was intently looking through the quest board.
(No new quests to take me out...)
Still a little incredulous, the man sighed and his shoulders relaxed. He was Wo Wungol, the leader of the infamous bandit gang, the Mole. Since his encounter with a Holy Maiden the other day, his life had not been the same. Despite having his rear end handed to him, he had managed to successfully sneak into the village of Rabbi and steal some water, night after night.
(They haven’t noticed...? But they...)
For the first time in a while, he hadn’t had to worry about water, but the privilege didn’t last long. After the Demon Lord returned to the village, the bandit had barely been able to get close to the village of Rabbi. The Demon Lord and a Holy Maiden were bad enough, but now they seemed to have acquired some human resources. Like any seasoned bandit, Wo Wungol could sense danger a mile away. Upon seeing Yu and Tahara, he immediately halted his attempts to even approach the village.
(Dammit... These parts are getting harder and harder to live in.)
The eastern regions of Holylight were a wasteland, practically ignored by the rest of the country. This was precisely why a man like Wo Wungol could survive for so long out here. However, now that the Demon Lord and his people had moved in, things were changing. Drawing up the map of Holylight in his mind, the bandit considered where to run off to. While conditions were almost as destitute up north, there were militant forces everywhere, making it extremely dangerous. There wasn’t much reward to be had, either. The center of the country was just as dangerous for him, considering it was under Queen’s watch.
(So I’m left with west or south...? That’s not good.)
The western and southern parts of the country were bountiful land ruled by the nobles and the Madame, which meant there were plenty of rewards to reap. While there were a good number of private militias, none of them had had much experience in real battle, so they weren’t a match for this bandit gang. The problem was that the people who ruled those parts had the money to buy brute force, chiefly mercenaries and adventurers. Like hungry beasts, they were always sniffing around for a pot of gold. If Wo Wungol were to start working in the south or west, he would soon become prey to one of them.
Demon Lord, Retry! Volume 2 Page 12