How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord: Volume 7

by Yukiya Murasaki

  Diablo was in agreement.

  “It’s not just the Elves. The existence of all the races is on the line here.”

  “...Despite that, the fact that they never told us anything about this must mean it’s some sort of Elven secret?”

  “Or maybe just the Elven royalty are in on it. The more people know of a secret, the likelier it is to come to light.”

  “...True, there’s probably no need to tell the common civilians. I think it also explains why the Elves haven’t come to collect all the treasures lying around here.”

  No one would want to willingly come near a Demon Lord, even if it were a sealed one.

  The Demon Lord of the Heart, Kardia was far more grotesque than any other monster Diablo had met so far. And just how strong could he be?

  The players always grew gradually stronger; that was how MMORPGs worked, so monsters featured in newer events were as a result progressively stronger as well. If Diablo didn’t know about Kardia, it must mean they weren’t implemented. Basically, it was probable Kardia was set to appear in a future event.

  In the game, he’d beaten the 《Demon Lord of the Mind, Enkvaros》 solo, but Kardia was likely on a higher level. Unlike Lyferia, the Kingdom of Greenwood wasn’t as prepared to face this type of threat. The races’ defensive lines were in the Demon Lord’s domain to the west, but Greenwood was deep in the races’ territories. There were no large defensive strongholds between it and the capital.

  Diablo thought back to Alicia in the capital, Lumachina in the Grand Cathedral, the Firebird Inn’s employees, and the many people he’d met in the capital.

  —If this thing awakens, they’re all going to die...

  Interlude

  She stood in a pitch black room. There was nothing here in the depths of this dream. But she could hear a voice crying out to her from the ground.

  “Have you forgotten?”

  This wasn’t the voice of a man. It was something no one should ever lend an ear to. Realizing this instinctively, she covered her long ears.

  A single spot lit up in the darkness. A child was standing there, a Dark Elf boy.

  “...Have you forgotten me?”

  Her eyes widened. Her lips quivered. How many decades had it been since she last mouthed his name?

  “Have you forgiven them?” the boy spoke. “Even though I died because of them!”

  No.

  That was wrong. Her common sense knew this. The Humans were at fault.

  “Then once we’re done with them, we’ll do away with the Humans. I will never forgive the Kingdom of Lyferia.”

  But that was a thing of the past...

  The boy’s eyes moistened with tears.

  “You have forgotten...”

  No.

  I didn’t forget you. I could never forget you. But we have a future we have to march to now.

  “If that isn’t forgetting about the resentment in your heart, what is!?”

  Streaks of red trailed down from the tips of the boy’s lips. A massive sword, far too large compared to his small body, burst out of his chest. A cross-shaped spear pierced through his back, blood pouring out of his body.

  “Even though I’m in so much pain! Even though I was killed!”

  Red fluid danced through the air.

  Something wet was on her cheek. She reached out to it. A wet, slimy sensation against her fingers.

  She screamed.

  “SeeK mE oUt”

  The voice of the black lump submerged beneath the earth rattled inside her skull.

  Chapter 6: Holding a Wedding

  For the first time since he arrived in this world, Diablo had spent the whole night wide awake in bed...

  The next day—

  Before the morning mist had a chance to clear, the music of flutes and harps could be heard. The Elves were probably preparing for the wedding ceremony.

  Diablo sat up, turning his gaze to the door. Rose, the Magimatic Maid, was standing against the wall, bowing at him politely.

  “Good morning, Master. Are there any problems with Master’s physical condition?”

  So long as Diablo was awake and within a certain distance from her, Rose was capable of charging her magical energy. She likely knew he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

  “I haven’t used any magic since we arrived in this forest. So much so that my body almost feels dull for it. What problems could I possibly have?”

  “Pardon Rose, Master...”

  Rem, who was in the same bed as him, was still fast asleep. It was still early morning, so Diablo decided to let her sleep a while longer.

  Climbing out of bed quietly, he headed to the room’s door.

  “Rose, just in case, stay by Rem’s side.”

  “...As Master wishes.”

  Showing her discontent at being away from Diablo with only a short pause, Rose nodded obediently.

  He went out to the common room, immediately realizing the front door was slightly open. Other dwellings in this country didn’t have walls, let alone doors, as the Elves made tree branches their homes, so he couldn’t quite call it a lack of caution.

  —Did someone come in?

  The common room had doors to the two private rooms, with one being the room Diablo just came out of. The other was the room Rafflesia was using, her door also half-open. Come to think of it, the dwellings in the Dark Elves’ village didn’t have doors either. She probably wasn’t used to closing doors behind her.

  “...Did she go out for a walk?”

  Perhaps Diablo wasn’t the only one who couldn’t fall asleep tonight. If a new king would be coronated during today’s wedding, Rafflesia would be one step closer to her goal. But whether the new king would agree to giving away territory was a question no one knew the answer to yet. The life of Shera, the new queen, was on the line, so it was doubtful the king would refuse, but...

  But still, the world of politics could be quite unreasonable at times, and the sort of people that would take all they could to not honor a promise despite that were a dime a dozen.

  “I can see why she’d feel anxious...”

  Diablo stepped outside. If he recalled Shera’s words correctly, the wedding should be held at a plaza near the forest’s largest tree. He thought the Elves would be in a great hustle, but was surprised to find that wasn’t the case. As always, some of them were lying down on branches, strumming some stringed instrument or other, and others were eating fruit.

  Then it came into his field of vision.

  “Ooh...” He said despite himself. The tree was simply that large and magnificent. It was tall enough to make Diablo think it would pierce the heavens, and was thicker than a sorcerer’s tower. It made all the other large trees around look like saplings in comparison.

  An altar was set before the large tree, though it wasn’t fully decorated yet. The flower beds surrounding the plaza were only half done, and the Elves were still carrying in chairs. One of the Elves seemed to be in charge, giving everyone else instructions.

  “Good, good, that chair can go over there. Hurry up, we need to have the bottom half done by eight o’clock. Now what about the decorations for the top there? Tell them to hurry it up too.”

  “Sir Drango, we brought another bench.”

  “Oh, good. Huh...its design is a bit different... All right, put that one in the back.”

  Diablo’s eyes widened in shock.

  —That’s Drango!?

  He still had a distinctly un-Elven pig face, but everyone seemed to respect him. The oddest part of all was that he wasn’t talking in that odd, greasy tone from before.

  “How are preparations for the food going...? There isn’t enough meat... No way around it, send five people out to hunt. We need it done in two hours.”

  “Sir Drango, half of the decorations for the top were delivered just now!”

  “Terrific! Hmmhmm, wonderful, they’re looking good. Now let’s get to placing them. Work in teams of two, one putting up the decorations, one carrying
them for the decorator to take up. It should be faster than one of you having to climb down each time to take more decorations.”

  “Right! Let’s get to it, fellas!”

  The young Elves divided into groups of two, as per Drango’s instructions.

  “Hmph...” Diablo had walked up to him. “Impressive leadership skills. As one may expect from the future king, I suppose.”

  “Ah!? Oh my, hello there. You’re up early!”

  “You, what’s with that odd way of speaking...”

  “Duhuhu... Is something wrong with the way I talk?”

  It was like he was forcing himself to act, but why? It certainly wasn’t going to make him seem more appealing to women. The queen was the one who nominated Drango to be king, but she never did compliment his appearance or gestures. Diablo, with the Demon Lord role play, knew very well that keeping up a façade wasn’t something one could do half-heartedly. There had to have been a reason he went to such lengths. But asking wouldn’t be enough to get him to reveal his motives.

  “You’re a suspicious one.”

  “My, what am I to do. My wedding with Princess Shera will begin at one in the afternoon. Feel free to help yourself to some rich fruit until then. We’ve prepared some truly delectable ones, so feel free to sit back at your leisure.”

  “I’ve eaten enough. But forget that. There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “Hohoh, whatever could it be?”

  “Shera wishes to continue adventuring. She’ll most likely say she wants to leave the kingdom again after the wedding.”

  “Duhuhu... It sounds like our future queen will be a troublesome one.”

  “So you’d think.”

  Drango placed a hand over his mouth, his gaze turning into a sharp glare.

  “...You’ve seen it, haven’t you, Sir Diablo?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ve had scouts keep an eye on Princess Shera. I’ve been informed she took you to the royal family’s burial mound, and that you all left with pale expressions on your faces.”

  “Then you know what’s in there?”

  “I was aide to the king once.”

  “That simplifies things then.”

  “I will have to ask you to keep silent on that matter, and not say a word to the other Elves.”

  As he thought, the Demon Lord Kardia’s incarceration was a royal secret. Drango only knew about it because he used to be the king’s right hand.

  “Even if I take the throne, we would need to produce heirs. Otherwise, should anything happen to Princess Shera during her travels, the royal bloodline would die out.”

  “Hmph.”

  Being an Adventurer meant frequently brushing against death, so Drango’s concerns were understandable.

  “It would only really be a problem if she left Greenwood before giving birth to at least three children. That’s my view on the matter.”

  Diablo sighed. They were treating her like a cow that needed to give birth to a quota of children. The reason he decided on three was probably because the former queen gave birth to three children, and only one of them—Shera—survived. Diablo now realized why even a vile person like Prince Keera was cherished by the kingdom.

  “But do not make that matter known, at any cost,” Drango emphasized.

  “Were it no longer a secret, even the governor of Faltra wouldn’t cut off your prince’s head.”

  “Perish the thought! If that matter were to be exposed, the royal family would be hunted down as Demon Lord worshipers!”

  “Hmph... I understand what you’re trying to say.”

  Diablo still didn’t know why Drango kept up the acting and his silly manner of speaking though. But if he knew about the seal, it was probably only natural he’d come to that decision.

  †

  The time was one in the afternoon, in the plaza before the large tree. Colorful decorative strings dangled from the treetops, glittering and sparkling as glass beads were tied to their ends. Flowers blossomed around the plaza, as if embracing it. They weren’t in pots, but rather grew from the ground like flowerbeds. But this ceremony had been organized on such a short notice, so they were probably placed there since there was no way to time their blossoming properly to match the wedding.

  Benches were lined up, with smooth fabrics spread over them. Those of high standing in Elven society participated while sitting on them. Everyone else watched the proceeding while standing up around the plaza.

  A large audience of Elves, more than one would believe actually inhabited this forest, were gathered around. The vast majority of the Kingdom of Greenwood was here. The king’s enthronement was tied to the forest’s survival, so interest was high. Of course, the people wanted to attend just for the festivities as well.

  A carpet weaved with golden threads was spread out, leading up to the ceremonial hall. Its design was made to appear luxurious while still appearing harmonious with nature.

  All in all, it was a beautiful sight.

  As a national guest, Rem was sitting at the end of the first row. Rose sat near her, leaving a single seat’s gap. It was a bit nerve-wracking.

  “...Isn’t Diablo coming?”

  “Rose’s sensors do not detect Master either. Perhaps it is because there are too many people around... Tch.” The Magimatic Maid seemed to be rather irritable whenever Diablo wasn’t around.

  The ceremony was just about to begin, but there was no sign of Diablo or Rafflesia.

  “...So the two of them went out separately?”

  “Affirmative. The Dark Elf left before dawn.”

  “...Did something happen to Lady Rafflesia? She told the queen she would participate in the wedding... I find it hard to believe the side that wants to see a promise kept would break a promise of their own.”

  “Insufficient data. It is impossible to form conjecture.”

  “...What if she was attacked by a wild beast?”

  “While Rose cannot say with certainty, Rose does not detect any animals capable of harming the races in the vicinity.”

  “...The Elves do have scouts deployed around here, I suppose.”

  “Yes.”

  “...It looked like Diablo had something in mind.” Rem sighed. “He could have told me what it was though...”

  “Perhaps Master does not trust you.”

  Rem glared at her with a miffed expression. Rose, meanwhile, stood as expressionless as ever, facing forward like a statue.

  The reason Rem made her displeasure so visible was because she felt Rose’s words were on the point. The fact Rose may have hit the nail on the head annoyed her to no end. Had Rose simply pointed out something that felt wrong, Rem would have been amazed, or laughed it off even.

  “...That may be true.” Rem’s shoulders drooped. “Should we split up and go looking for them?”

  “Rose refuses to do such a thing. Master ordered Rose to ‘stay by Rem’s side.’”

  “...Oh, so that’s what happened.”

  If it weren’t for her, Diablo would have had Rose at his service for whatever he was doing right now. Was Rem just in his way?

  “I’m so pathetic...” Rem whispered to herself.

  Ding!

  Stringed instruments rang out, and the orchestra began their performance. Instruments gradually joined in, turning that soft sound, as gentle as a bird’s chirping, into a magnificent song. Perhaps owing to them playing year round, the Elves’ skill with music was impressive. Even Rem, who wasn’t knowledgeable when it came to this subject, could tell how good they were.

  The music died down, then the host announced the opening of the ceremony.

  “Oh God who is in the heavens, His Majesty, Her Majesty, all those in attendance, and all the citizens of Greenwood! Let us bless this wonderful day!”

  He spoke in a sonorous tone as he began reading a passage from the holy scriptures. After that, Drango, the coming King, rose to take the stage.

  It was said anyone could look good with the right c
lothes, but seeing a pig-faced man in a white outfit was all sorts of dissonant...

  “...It really is odd.”

  “Rose feels the same way.”

  “...It’s not often we agree.”

  “No it is not.”

  Drango stood in front of the altar, thanking the priest, then lowered his head to the queen in the front row.

  The host raised his voice once again in a flowing fashion.

  Enter the bride!

  Rem turned around. The other end of the golden thread carpet was covered in a veil, and crossing through it—was Shera.

  A princess clad in a white dress.

  Rem was enchanted, just as everyone else.

  For a moment, the orchestra stopped playing, the wind ceased from blowing, and the chirping of the birds died down, culminating in a silence so total it was somehow audible.

  A moment later, the audience began to stir.

  Rem had thought Shera was beautiful at times, though her bumbling stupidity made such impressions come about much less often than was probably deserved. But now there could be no doubt.

  —She’s gorgeous...

  It may have been odd to see someone of the same gender in such a light, but it wasn’t in the sense of sexual attraction. Rather, it was the sort of admiration one may feel toward a beautiful view or a lovely painting.

  The dress also accentuated and beautified Shera’s un-Elf-like curvature. It exposed the nape of her neck, probably because of the Enslavement Collar. It was only hidden by concealment magic, which meant it still existed and she couldn’t wear clothes over it.