The Hero Menace Read online

  “Where do you think you’re going, you coward!?”

  The Hero swung his knife at the pillar multiple times. He sliced through it like it was wax, cutting it into to a dozen smaller pieces. Just as I’d expected him to.

  Now was the time to strike. If I hesitated even a little, it’d be all over. I kicked at the broken shards of the pillar in quick succession, then dropped to all fours and raced across the floor. Between the black floor, black walls, black pillars, black ceiling, and black rubble, my black-furred form became hard to spot. For the briefest of instants, likely not even a second, the Hero lost track of my position. But that split-second of camouflage was more than enough. Without any regard for my own safety, I jumped at the Hero and bit down as hard as I could onto his shin.

  “Gaaah!”

  I heard his bone’s snap, and the taste of his blood filled my mouth. Werewolves’ greatest weapons weren’t their fists or their claws, but their fangs. Everything else was just there to make it easier to bite your enemies to death. I had no idea how to fight as a human, but I’d learned from an early age how to fight as a werewolf. And while my other attacks had been ineffective, it appeared my fangs could pierce the Hero’s defenses. Meaning I still had a chance. Injured or not though, Arshes was still the Hero.

  “URAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

  Screaming, he swung his knife down at me. The series of fierce struggles had taken their toll on him, and he had very little mana left. Pain and exhaustion dulled his movements, granting me just enough time to roll away. After dodging his attack I yanked my jaws backward, dragging him to the floor. At this point, our chances of victory were finally even. We charged each other, betting our lives on every attack. It was a race to see whether my fangs would reach his throat, or the Hero’s knife would pierce my heart.

  In terms of pure strength, the Hero outclassed me even with his reduced mana. However, he wasn’t trying to pin me down. My guess was he was wary of the Demon Lord’s imperial guards. He hadn’t killed them earlier because he’d used them as hostages to keep the Demon Lord’s movements in check. But now it was their existence that was keeping him in check. Even with all these advantages piled on, though, I was just barely keeping up. Only my fangs had any hope of hurting the Hero. On the other hand, even a punch or a kick from him was deadly. If I let my guard down for even an instant I’d be killed.

  But so what!? Like hell I’m going to lose here! You’re no goddamn Hero. You’re just a murderer! I feinted for the Hero’s throat, and when he raised up his arm to block I bit down on his right wrist instead. I used every ounce of my strength to tear through his joints and shatter bone. With this, his right hand was out of commission. However, even as I bit through his wrist, he threw a punch with his free left hand. It packed as much force as a giant’s fist. For a moment, I nearly blacked out. By the time I returned to my senses, the Hero was straddling. He looked beside himself with rage.

  “YOU BASTARD!” he screamed.

  Not good. He had his left arm pulled all the way back. If he hit me with a punch like that, I’d die for sure. However, I was pinned to the ground. Though he looked slender, he weighed more than a boulder. The nearby imperial guards readied their spears, but they wouldn’t make it in time.

  Is this as far as I go? Well, if I’m going to die, I may as well die fighting. Before the Hero could attack, I counterattacked with magic. I had no affinity with attack magic, so I couldn’t use any offensive spells. The only spells I could use that affected other people were body strengthening and healing ones. And so, that was what I used. My hastily assembled healing spell went off moments before the Hero launched his punch. It was one of the most basic healing spells I knew.

  “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

  However, it caused the Hero more pain than anything else so far. He held his wrist and shin, groaning in pain. And for a moment, he showed an opening. The healing spell I’d used was one that heightened a person’s natural healing and slowly knitted together their wounds. It was the same spell Master had used to heal Dogg once before. It required almost no mana to cast, but because it forced the cells of the person it was cast on to regenerate at abnormal speeds, it caused a great deal of pain. It was a spell with little practical value and was a practice spell used by new mages to train. I doubted anyone else had ever used it in combat. Because of how messy the wounds caused by my fangs had been, their healing was even more painful than usual. A normal person would likely have passed out from the agony. But the Hero being the Hero, he managed to withstand the pain with his consciousness intact. Still, it was enough to make him recoil. I mentally thanked Master for her thorough tutelage and shoved the Hero off me. I then pinned him down to the floor, straddling him like he’d done to me seconds ago. This was likely my only shot at victory. If I didn’t kill him here, I wouldn’t get a second chance. I bit into his neck without hesitation. My fangs tore through his windpipe, and I ripped half his neck off in a single savage bite. Crimson blood spurted from the wound, dying my field of vision red. The Hero didn’t even scream.

  Gagging, I stumbled to my feet. Every breath I took stank of the Hero’s blood. I wiped my face and looked down at the Hero, who was drowning in a pool of his own blood. Unbelievable as it seemed, he was attempting to stand back up. However he’d lost too much blood, and as I watched his struggles grew weaker. The paltry healing magic I’d cast on him was of no use for a wound this fatal. He sucked in a few rasping breaths as his lifeblood spilled onto the obsidian floor. His eyes shot open in terror, and he looked up at me. He moved his lips, forming silent words as blood dribbled from his mouth. He lifted a trembling hand and pointed at me. I had no idea what he was trying to say. But as he pointed to me, I remembered I hadn’t yet told him my name.

  “I am Veight. Just your average Vice-Commander.”

  I had no idea whether he heard my words or not. But a second later his hand fell limp, and the light vanished from his eyes. And thus, the Hero Arshes met his end.

  Silence followed the Hero’s death. None of the Demon Lord’s guards made a move. I stumbled over to a nearby pillar and slumped against it. Too exhausted to maintain my wolf form, my body transformed into that of a human’s. This was the first time I’d ever been this tired. The aftereffects of using Fanatic Burn were kicking in now. As my vision grew blurry, I staggered to where the Demon Lord had fallen. My legs felt leaden, like I was dragging a boulder with each step. His body was prone, and I could tell from the lack of mana around him that his life was already extinguished. No magic could save him now. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell him goodbye. Though, maybe I’d get my chance to see him sooner than I thought. The consequences of using a forbidden spell grew more severe, and my entire body felt like it was being ripped apart. I grit my teeth against the pain and said to the Demon Lord in Japanese, “I’ve avenged you... Maou-sama...”

  Demons of this generation would no longer have to live in fear of the Hero. So rest in peace. You’ve earned that much, at least.

  Everything went black. Since becoming a werewolf I’d been able to see in the dark, so this was the first time in this life I was enveloped in darkness. If I die like this, will I be able to see you again? That was the last thought that crossed my mind before even my consciousness was enveloped in darkness.

  ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊

  —Melaine’s Nursing Diary—

  I turn over to the bed, where Veight’s sleeping like the dead. He is still alive, right? Vampires can tell the living from the dead easily enough, but I can’t help but be uneasy. I lean close and make sure he’s still breathing. Okay good, he’s still alive. Just knowing that is a huge relief.

  But still, it’s been three days now. How long is he planning on sleeping for? He’s been prone to oversleeping ever since he was a kid, but this is really too much.

  I’ve been keeping a close eye on his vitals using both my knowledge as a necromancer and my innate talents as a vampire. At first, he really was hovering on the brink of death, but after three days o
f constant care, his condition stabilized. They don’t call me Master Gomoviroa’s greatest disciple for nothing. I won’t let you die that easily, Veight.

  The Demon Lord needs you to finish what he started. If I compare the demon army to a family, then the Demon Lord was everyone’s father. Master is like everyone’s grandmo—err, I mean, mother. Yep, definitely mother.

  She might end up reading this, so it’s better not to write anything that’ll make her mad.

  Anyway, that makes Veight everyone’s big brother. The responsible older brother of the demon army. Everyone relies on him. And not just because he’s a good general and a good diplomat. They need you and your weird ways of thinking, Veight. You show pity to the weak, and even though you’re a werewolf you don’t like spilling blood. But when things get dangerous, you’re always the one risking your own life. But everything you do helps lead demonkind toward a better future. Whenever something unexpected pops up, people expect you to deal with it, Veight. Because they know you can handle it.

  Whoops, this was supposed to be a nursing diary, but it ended up becoming my personal diary. Well, whatever. Master always says that writers insert their subjective bias into everything they write. I just wish you’d wake up already, Veight. Because, well... I’m relying on you as much as everyone else. Please, protect Master and all the other demons, Veight.

  ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊

  Apparently, I slept for quite a few days.

  “Ah, you’re finally up.”

  The first thing I saw upon opening my eyes was Melaine. She pressed her forehead against mine, then nodded to herself.

  “Looks like both your mana and your spirit are doing just fine. And you don’t seem to be suffering any side-effects either.”

  “Where am I?”

  In retrospect, that was an unnecessary question. I could tell this was the room allotted to me in Grenschtat.

  “So I survived...”

  I heaved a sigh of relief. If I’d really died here, I had no doubt the Demon Lord would have given me a scolding in the afterlife. Melaine gave me a stern frown and said, “Is being reckless with your life a trait all werewolves share, or is that just how your personality is, Veight?”

  She reached over and pinched my cheeks. Oww, that hurts, Melaine.

  “So, what happened after the fight?”

  I escaped from Melaine’s clutches and asked the thing I was most curious about. She patted my shoulder and said in a gentle voice, “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. Master took care of everything.”

  After I’d lost consciousness, the surviving imperial guards had treated my wounds. Once they’d done all they could for me, they’d called the other dragonkin back and cleaned up both the Demon Lord and the Hero’s body. Around the same time, Master regained consciousness. Supposedly she’d sensed the deaths of the Hero and the Demon Lord, and the death of such huge bundles of mana had been what had jolted her awake. Even though she could barely move, she’d forced herself to teleport back to Grenschtat.

  From there, she’d taken charge. The first thing she’d done was spend an entire night trying to revive the Demon Lord. Unfortunately, not even her powers were enough to bring back someone who’d completely crossed the threshold into death. Exhausted, she’d tearfully announced the passing of the Demon Lord. His body had then been entombed in the mausoleum underneath the castle.

  While demons did bury their dead, traditionally they didn’t hold elaborate funeral services. Most races lived in the harsh wilderness, and if they didn’t dispose of their dead quickly the remains were likely to be eaten. However, it appeared the Demon Lord at least was going to get a proper funeral.

  As for the Hero, Master carried his remains back to the Meraldian army awaiting his return. She’d wanted to give the humans a chance to mourn their own dead, but when the army camped outside the mists had seen her carrying the Hero’s corpse, they’d fled in terror. When they’d seen the bite marks marring the Hero’s neck they’d assumed that the Hero had failed to slay the Demon Lord, and had been slaughtered by a werewolf on his way to the castle. Mistakenly believing that the Demon Lord was still alive, the army had abandoned Arshes’ corpse, fearing they would be next. Master had felt bad about just leaving the Hero’s body there, so she’d brought it back to the castle to be buried. However, she hoped she’d eventually be able to return it to his hometown.

  Afterwards, scouts confirmed that the Meraldian army had retreated back to Bahen. Most of the militia had deserted, while the standing army was too terrified to leave the safety of Bahen’s walls. Apparently, there were some highly exaggerated rumors circulating around the Meraldian army regarding my deeds. From the sound of it, my wanted poster was about to get a lot of new entries to it.

  In the end, neither army gained anything from this battle. Both sides lost their greatest warriors without anyone gaining a tactical advantage.

  At present, the Meraldian army wasn’t making any big moves. But right now, the biggest problem was if the Demon Army could survive. With the Demon Lord gone, the only people capable of leading the army were the regiment commanders. However, Tiverit had also died, meaning the only person capable of taking charge was my master, Gomoviroa. During the time I’d been unconscious, Master had reassured the men, maintained morale, and kept the army together. Had it not been for her valiant efforts, the army may well have collapsed in the aftermath of the Demon Lord’s death.

  In terms of both ability and experience, Master was the most suited to succeed the position of Demon Lord. She seemed reluctant to take the position though, so I figured I needed to persuade her. After all, Master was the one who convinced the Demon Lord to start this army in the first place. Before that, he’d just led a small band of dragonkin warriors. It was thanks to her efforts that Tiverit had joined, and the demon army had grown to the size it was now. Even I’d only joined the demon army because of Master. It might be cruel of me to say this, but she had a duty to see what she started through. Of course, I had every intention of supporting her as her vice-commander.

  While I was worried about the future of the demon army, right now my biggest priority was visiting the Demon Lord’s tomb. I wanted to properly say my farewells to him. I slid out of bed and got to my feet. Though I was still a little sore, it looked like I’d healed enough to move around.

  “I’m going to visit the Demon Lord’s tomb.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “I want to go alone, if that’s okay.”

  Melaine gave me a troubled look, but after a few seconds, she smiled sadly.

  “Alright... Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

  I leaned against Melaine’s shoulder, and she patted my head like she used to when I was a kid. How many years has it been since she last did that? It appeared Melaine had been worried sick about me the whole time I was unconscious.

  As I stepped out into the hall, I found the first regiment’s vice-commanders all lined up outside my door. Even Baltze and Kurtz were there, along with the Demon Lord’s personal guard. Everyone raised their arms in a silent salute. I understood what they were feeling, even if neither of us could express it in words. I returned their salute and headed off to the mausoleum.

  Grenschtat’s mausoleum was an edifice of stone enshrined in the castle’s rear courtyard. Presumably, it had been built for the castle’s original inhabitants, but for some unknown reason, they’d never used it. Perhaps some human foes had eliminated them before they’d gotten the chance to. Regardless of its original purpose, now the mausoleum was the Demon Lord’s final resting place. I burned a stick of incense in front of the imposing stone building and offered a silent prayer. This world didn’t have the same incense sticks that existed in Japan, so I’d borrowed the closest equivalent I could find from Melaine. I clapped my hands together and whispered, “It’s not fair, Demon Lord. You can’t just leave me like this.”

  He was the first other reincarnated person I’d met after coming to this world. Not only that, but he�
�d also been from Japan. I’d felt a strong connection with him, even if I hadn’t known too much about his past life. Even if he didn’t talk about his past, we’d still had no end of things to talk about.

  “Demon Lord, do you ever crave rice? The bread of this world isn’t bad, but I wish I could eat rice again.”

  “I do indeed. A square acre of rice can feed far more people than a square acre of wheat. I hope there’s an opportunity to introduce rice cultivation to the demon army at some point.”

  “Err, I just wanted rice because it tastes good...”

  “Since you are a werewolf, your body can digest vegetables and grains. However, I am dragonkin. Unfortunately, our bodies cannot handle plants well.”

  “It must be tough to live like that...”

  We’d had tons of pointless conversations like that. In the end, I’d never learned what kind of person the Demon Lord had been in his past life, but judging by his personality he’d likely been a workaholic. After all, he’d literally worked himself to death in this one. Thinking back on it now, he really had been an awkward guy. He hadn’t even told me what his old name had been in Japan. My nostalgia trip was suddenly interrupted by a voice from behind me.

  “So this is where you were, Veight.”

  It was Master’s voice. I turned around and saw her smiling at me like she always did. However, her face was pale, and she was so exhausted that she needed to lean on her staff just to stand.

  “Are you alright, Master?”

  “No need to worry about little old me. I hear you avenged Tiverit and the Demon Lord for me. Thank you, Veight.”

  “I just struck the Hero down while he was still wounded, it’s nothing to be proud of.”