Chapter 22: Let’s Meet Again

"Good grief, what a disgrace for two commanders to be dispatched… To trouble Lord Lazy himself… how pitiful."

The young man spoke with eyes as cold as if he were looking at rotting garbage on the ground. He was a handsome youth with eyes as black as the abyss.

Reclining deep in his seat, one leg crossed over the other as he glared down at us, his posture was distasteful, but undeniably regal. If Lord Lazy and this man were seated side by side, ten out of ten would take him for the true king.

At the same time, he was also a pure warrior—one who had spent unending years forging himself, guided only by his own thirst. Hard Loader. The left hand of Sloth. The demon who rules over Arrogance, Superbia.

My head throbbed with a sharp sting. It was not anger toward this arrogant man.

"No, no… Zebul Glacos was one of Lord Kanon’s most powerful demon kings. To defeat him without a demon king’s aid was far too heavy a task."

Kanon’s adjutant, who had committed the unthinkably insolent act of dragging Lord Lazy into the field, spoke in a chastising tone. Since it was that very insolence that had saved us, I could say nothing in return. A stabbing pain pierced again from deep in my brain. I rubbed my brow to soothe it.

Hard answered that look with a mocking smile. His words were always laced with absolute confidence.

"Hmph… That may apply to the common rabble of demons. But as one who commands the army of the Great King of Sloth, I’m saying it is far too disgraceful, Riez Bloodcross."

"…You certainly talk big for someone who didn’t even bother to sortie."

"True enough. I didn’t expect you to be this useless, though. Next time a demon king attacks, I’ll go out alone."

His reply came at once—irritated, but without hesitation. There was not a trace of jest on Hard’s face. Even though an entire force, including two generals, had been crushed by a single demon king, his eyes held not the slightest hint of panic or strain. Only elegance. And above all, arrogance.

The demons of Arrogance, Superbia, are strong. In fact, it is said that nearly seventy percent of demons who ascend to demon kings belong to Arrogance. The defeated are worth less than filth, the victors equal to gods. And themselves—greater still than gods. That is the original sin of Arrogance. They are cruelly unstable demons, domineering toward the weak and submissive before the strong. And yet, they are held as the mightiest of all. What they seek is only the result. However it is reached, defeat alone invites scorn. Like the other Desires, the stronger they are, the more extreme this tendency becomes.

Of the four seated at the round table, the last one—Deji, who had lost nearly all his collection and even his army, the greatest casualty—spoke while examining the battered Celeste.

"…But y’know, Commander Hard, the girl’s right. That Glutton Zebul was something else, a demon king with absurd, impossible power. Even you, Commander Hard the Arrogant, would’ve struggled to ‘surpass’ him."

"Hmph… Is that only compared to the demon kings you’ve served up to now?"

"Kik-kik-kik, yeah. Other than him… the only ones stronger I can name are Lazy himself and the Great Demon Lord."

He answered with a dry laugh. As an ancient demon, Deji’s words carried weight.

Indeed, Zebul Glacos the Glutton was without doubt one of the three most fearsome demon kings I had ever met. In magic, in skills, in presence—an absolute power leagues beyond any ordinary demon. The rumor that he once devoured heavenly soldiers during the war against the heavens ten thousand years ago no longer seemed laughable. He was "Glutton Glacos."

If only I had that kind of power— Like sand falling with the passage of time, I felt something thick and heavy pool in the depths of my spirit. The weight of it nearly made me dizzy.

Since becoming a general, I had never known defeat. This war was my very first. And having tasted it for the first time in ages, I could not suppress the impulse welling up inside.

"Hmph, and yet my lord dispatched him with ease, didn’t he?"

"Kik-kik-kik, yeah. Third Seat or not, Lord Lazy’s a monster. The King of Gluttony was played like a child’s toy. After all… Lazy didn’t even move."

At Deji’s words, the scene of Lord Lazy’s battle with the demon king replayed in my mind. True, Lord Lazy hadn’t even stood up. …Though he had teleported, with some skill I’d never seen before. Hard, with that familiar sharp and arrogant gaze, nodded.

"Hmph… the power of Sloth grows the less one moves. A fitting choice for Lord Lazy."

"I doubt he thought about it that deeply…"

"Tell me, Deji, what other skills did my lord use?"

How could Hard still maintain his arrogance? Just sitting here, I could feel Lord Lazy’s power pressing painfully from his distant chamber. In both quantity and quality, this strength was on a stage no demon could reach. Compared even with me, a general, or with Deji and Hard, both stronger than I—he surpassed us not by ten times, nor twenty. Far more.

"Kik-kik-kik, even I couldn’t see it all. And Liber got eaten, so…"

"…Liber the Seeker was devoured? I had my eye on him… hmph."

Hard shut his eyes, as if dismissing it as worthless.

Neither his eyes, his face, nor his manner showed any trace of mourning. And Deji’s expression did not change, even as Riez’s face clouded at the loss of their comrade, Liber Aigens. That, perhaps, was the strength of Deji, an old demon who had survived even the war against the heavens.

――That strength, I could only envy.

Deji called Hard Loader a terrifying demon. Was he seeing something I could not? Of us here, I was the youngest. In general, the older a demon becomes, the deeper their Desire, and the stronger they grow. Deji had lived through the war against the heavens ten thousand years ago. Hard Loader was said to be one of the very first demons to follow Lord Lazy since ancient times. Someone like me, born only a few thousand years ago, could never hope to catch up to that span of years.

――And that too, I could only envy.

I gripped my trembling arm tightly.

Without replying to Hard’s words, Deji slid Celeste’s flaming blade back into its scabbard, then stored it in his own vault. Higher demon swords are alive; minor cracks will repair themselves automatically.

"What I saw… was a gravity-boosting skill, a teleportation skill… and some unknown skill that blasted Zebul away."

"Hmph… he certainly held back, then."

Hard frowned and sighed at Deji’s words. That was an expression one would never expect from a demon of Arrogance. With his elbows on the table, chin resting on one hand, he looked for all the world like a figure that could be painted into a masterpiece.

Deji folded his six arms with practiced ease, his face twisting with suspicion.

"Held back…?"

"Hmph. The Lord Lazy I know is far stronger than that. He didn’t even use the crucial skill: ‘Slaughter Doll.’"

"Kik-kik-kik, true enough. But even Lord Lazy couldn’t have taken down Zebul with just a puppet. The doll I got from him was torn apart and eaten."

"Do not compare it to the doll granted to you. Lord Lazy’s true Slaughter Dolls… are supreme."

Hard sneered—at Deji, at Riez, at me. It was a truth only Hard, who had served Lord Lazy far longer than I, could understand. And then, he said it.

"…Stronger even than their master."

"Hah? No way. A puppet stronger than the master itself? That’s impossible."

"Hmph. Impossible—for ordinary demons."

The Slaughter Doll was said to be a skill unique to the Demon King of Sloth, with almost no precedent. But still, to create something surpassing a Demon King himself was outside all reason.

Riez stared at Hard, face frozen in shock as if the words "liar" had been scrawled across his forehead.

Yet Hard Loader was perfectly sane. Arrogant, yes, but his power was real—not just in skills, but in intellect and charisma as well. Without such qualities, he could never lead the First Army, the largest of them all.

"Kik-kik-kik, if that’s true, then amazing. I’d love another one myself. But even so… the enemy this time was a demon king who could wound Lazy himself. A puppet without a Sin skill would’ve been out of its depth."

At that, Hard’s eyes went wide. He leaned forward, glaring fiercely at Deji, emotion spilling out so strongly it rattled the soul.

"Impossible… you’re saying Lord Lazy was wounded!?"

"Yeah. Well, it was just a little blood, and it healed right away, but still."

"…That’s enough. So Zebul the Glutton drew blood from Lord Lazy… Hmph, I see now…"

"Is something wrong? No matter how strong he is, even Lord Lazy is still a demon king. It’s not strange for him to be wounded by another of his kind. …He even whined about it when they dragged him back in front of us."

At Riez’s question, Hard let out a sigh, leaning back into his chair and sprawling with a heavy air. His gaze wandered through the air, as if chasing some thought.

"Hmph… it happens from time to time. But a being who could wound Lazy, even slightly… not for two thousand years has there been such a one."

"Two thousand years…? There was someone back then too?"

"Yes. An enemy you know well. But… never mind."

As if to close the conversation, Hard rose to his feet.

The pressure radiating from his body intensified—Arrogance’s magic thickened, crushing the air. His icy gaze swept across Deji and me, freezing us in place. The sheer force of it seemed to corrode the world itself.

Sensing the shift, Riez scowled and stood, her displeasure written plain on her face. Had this been right after she was dispatched, she might have flown into a rage. Recently, though, she’d learned to restrain her Wrath; she hardly burned down her chambers anymore.

"Hey, wait—"

"Hmph. The outcome may have been acceptable, but disgrace carries a price. I’ll deliver judgment soon enough. Look forward to it."

"Kik-kik-kik, go easy on us, eh?"

"…Hmph."

The door slammed shut with a heavy sound.

The air loosened, and Riez, bristling with indignation, spoke up, her hair flickering faintly with crimson phosphorescence.

"Th-that man… that’s no way to treat his own allies—"

"Kikikiki, young lady Riez, you’re still green. That’s just how a general of Pride is. If anything, the fact we weren’t executed on the spot… means our luck hasn’t run dry yet."

Deji sneered as he stood.

He had lived far longer than me, and his words carried the weight of hard-earned experience.

Six eyes turned toward me. The emotions in them were beyond my comprehension.

"Lady Midia, I’m—leaving this army."

His words were, in a sense, exactly what I expected.

Deji, no matter how monstrous his form, was a rational demon. His cravings, his desires, were aimed at things rather than people—that alone made him far more trustworthy than most.

Riez, however, hadn’t expected it. She shot to her feet again at his words.

"Wha—you’re serious, Deji?"

"Yeah… If I stick around, I’ll end up executed by Commander Hard. The left hand of Lazy, the Pride of Arrogance… kikikiki, that’s too much of a hassle."

"Ridiculous… You’re a commander yourself. You think such a thing will be allowed?"

"It will. My craving—ain’t the kind that can only be satisfied here. Whether you or Hard, I can’t say. But me? I’ll be fine."

Quick decision. Sharp judgment.

He was right. Greed’s cravings were the kind he could indulge anywhere. And with Deji’s power, he’d be valued no matter which Demon King he served under. Especially when he wielded a demon sword so fearsome even Zebul admitted to finding it terrifying.

And his second point hit the mark too.

My craving—Jealousy, Invidia—could only be fulfilled here.

A searing pain stabbed through my skull, as though my very brain had been wounded.

Deji knew when to walk away. That’s why he had survived even the war against the heavens. His body, forged like steel, his reason, his cunning, his craving—ah, everything about him was enviable.

Kikikiki—he laughed, that familiar laugh.

And then he said something I had never even considered.

"Kikikiki… as a fellow survivor of the Zebul battle, I’ll ask: hey, young lady, why don’t you leave with me?"

"What… that’s—"

"There’s more than one place where your craving can be met. Kikikiki, you’re young. Better to live a decent life than end up executed by Hard…"

Riez’s eyes darted frantically between us. As inspector, disunity within the Demon King’s army was her failure too. And the wrath of the Great Demon Lord would inevitably fall upon her. Even if it wasn’t her fault—it would be like touching a dragon’s reverse scale. No, worse than that.

"…I’ll persuade Hard-Loader. We cannot afford to lose any of the Great Demon Lord’s forces."

"Kikikiki, I appreciate the thought, but that’s impossible. Hard’s stronger than your Wrath, young lady. He’s been alive since before I even stopped being a dime-a-dozen demon. Pride’s ‘Supremacy’ skill only grows stronger the longer you live, you see."

"My orders are the Great Demon Lord’s orders. My words are the Great Demon Lord’s words. Even then, he won’t obey?"

"Don’t give a damn."

Deji spat the words out and left it at that.

"…Still… I’ve got a bad feeling. Kikikiki, best not think of him as just another demon anymore. Call this… advice from your elder."

That warning—I genuinely appreciated it.

And I knew it was true. If I stayed here, sooner or later Commander Hard would have me disposed of.

But even so—even so, I still had a reason to remain. No… I had to believe I did.

I steadied my heart and looked up firmly at Deji. A demon who, for a time at least, had crossed blades with Zebul and lived.

"…Thank you. But my craving… can only be fulfilled here."

"Kikikiki, just as I thought you’d say. Well, give it your best shot. As a former commander under the same banner, I’ll at least pray you survive."

He offered his right hand, as if for a handshake. I took it.

The hand was hard and rugged, muscles layered thick. I had no idea how much strength it held—but I could feel the weight of all the years behind it.

And I envied it. Envied the years he had piled up.

Even if his rank as a demon wasn’t particularly exalted, his nature was far more agreeable than Hard’s ever was.

Then Deji asked, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"Say, girl… there’s one thing I never asked. Do you know the Demon King of Lust, Luxeria?"

"…I know her. I’ve met her."

It had been thousands of years since the Demon King of Lust was destroyed.

And yet—even though I’d only met her once, the overwhelming jealousy she stirred in me was something I remembered as vividly as if it were yesterday.

Deji let out a sigh that didn’t suit him.

"…Figures. You really don’t have the ‘color’ for it. No way I could ever steal from you. Well, count yourself lucky for that."

"…………"

"Better luck ‘next time.’"

At that, I understood—clearly.

Ah… this man had realized.

That I wasn’t bearing Lust, Luxeria. I was bearing Jealousy, Invidia.

Perhaps it was only natural. Once already, I’d succumbed to jealousy of Celeste right before his eyes.

And yet—he hadn’t spoken it aloud. Perhaps because our cravings didn’t conflict. But perhaps, too, because of a certain kindness in this greedy demon.

No… I wanted to believe that was the case.

And so, just as he said, I envied him.

I became Deji.

"Kikikiki… Lazy the Sloth and Decay… quite the Demon King. Frightening, too. Not a hint of desire in him. Well… here’s hoping he’s still on our side, next we meet."

Yes… just so. May we meet again, and not as enemies.

I looked up at Deji with steady eyes and spoke.

"…Yes. Until next time, ‘Greed Avaritia.’"

"Kikikiki, until next time—‘Lust Luxeria.’"