# Chapter 6: "Work"
"Here we are! This is going to be our home from today!"
"...Huh?"
I can only stare in exasperation at the hero who appears with unnecessary flair, as if making some grand entrance. My reaction doesn't faze him at all. The hero keeps his momentum going, opens the door, and barges inside. It's nothing special—just a room in what humans would call an inn. A shabby room with only the bare essentials, lacking any luxury or dignity. And yet...
"What do you think? It might be a bit small, but it's plenty for two people to live in, right? Thanks to the village chief's generosity, we were able to borrow an unused room at the inn. But it does look a bit empty... Right! We need to buy a lot of things!"
The great hero is running around the room, excited like a child who's just been given a new toy. What is wrong with him? What's so exciting about this? My inability to understand has nothing to do with me being a demon. Even from a human perspective, the hero's behavior must seem bizarre. To put it bluntly, he's out of his mind.
"...Hey."
"Ah, sorry, sorry. But don't worry! There's a bunk bed with two places to sleep. I'd prefer the top bunk if that's okay. It's more exciting that way. Is that all right with you?"
What misunderstanding is this? The hero asks while climbing onto the top bunk. Is this really that hero? The one who defeated the Demon Lord, the one feared by all demonkind... supposedly. And to think I've lost to someone like him twice. It's nothing short of humiliating.
"...Do whatever you want. More importantly, are you seriously planning to live together with me?"
Unconsciously making a face like I've bitten into something sour, I ask again. In some ways, it's a humiliation worse than defeat—a nightmare that seems impossible. I'm confirming that this is reality. At the same time, I'm checking if this suspicious person calling himself a hero is in his right mind. And then—
"Of course. I told you, didn't I? I want to become friends with you. Unlike you demons, I don't tell lies."
He shows a confident smile as if it's the most natural thing in the world. He's definitely the real deal. He even mixes in a barb about not telling lies. I'm certain there's no other human who could irritate me as much as he does.
(This is so infuriating... Why is this happening to me?!)
Thinking back to just half a day ago, I suffered defeat due to a critical lapse in judgment and ended up subservient to the hero—to a human—standing before me. But I had already accepted that much. By all rights, I should have been killed on the spot. Compared to that, this humiliation is... However, at this point, I still hadn't grasped the absurdity of the human before me. After all, who would even think of living together with a demon? I could understand if it were a human who knew nothing about demons. But the person in front of me isn't like that. As a hero, he knows better than anyone what kind of beings demons are. Living together with humans is impossible. Even if the hero were constantly present, it's impossible. Not even demons can monitor another demon day and night without pause. That's exactly where I had planned to find my opening. But there was an exception.
(I never imagined "Azelüze"—the magic of submission—could be used like this...!)
Azelüze, the magic of submission.
A spell that, true to its name, forces submission on its target, turning them into a puppet. I've been made to submit to the hero by this very magic. But his usage of it was completely different from mine. The biggest difference is that he allows me, the subjugated one, a certain degree of free will and action. Right now, I can move my body and speak without the hero's orders or permission. Otherwise, I wouldn't even be able to talk back like I did earlier. Of course, I'm not allowed to do just anything.
"You must not eat humans." "You must not harm humans." "You must not stray too far from the hero."
These three are the main orders—the rules imposed on me, like commandments. As long as I follow these, I'm allowed to act freely. The first two make sense in a way. They're meant to prevent me from causing harm to humans, and they're also the result of my own blunder when I was begging for my life. But the third one was unexpected. If it weren't for that, I could have found a way out of this situation, but the hero must have anticipated that. He is, after all, still a hero. There are other minor rules imposed on me, but they're not significant.
In other words, I'm now like a pet. Just as humans do with dogs and cats. My fangs have been filed down, my claws pulled out, my throat crushed, and I've been neutered. Just that. I'm not interested in that itself. I simply don't understand the point. It seems like nothing but trouble. Considering the risk of rebellion, it would be more efficient to turn me into a complete puppet, like my Army of Death.
"Why are you making this so complicated? You could just make me a complete puppet. Or is this some kind of hobby of yours?"
I provoke him with a hint of sarcasm. If I were thinking ahead, I should be pretending to be obedient while looking for an opportunity. It's something I shouldn't do. But I couldn't help it. Is it my instinct as a demon? Or is it pure curiosity? An impulse I don't even understand myself. In response—
"I told you, didn't I? I want you to atone for your sins. It wouldn't mean anything if I just ordered you to do it."
Once again, I receive an answer that I can't comprehend. It's not that I don't understand the words. I don't understand what they mean. Atoning for sins. It's a phrase I've heard from humans before. But what is sin? What does it mean to atone? More fundamentally, why do I have to do such a thing? It's an absurd answer in every respect. The only thing I understand is that the hero wants me to do something. Not by command, but voluntarily.
"But you're still ordering me around."
Yet even that is contradictory. Because I'm already under orders. By none other than his own magic—the submission magic Azelüze. As long as it's in effect, I have no choice but to obey the human before me. No matter what the order is.
"It's not an order. It's a request."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
Looking at me, the hero answers thus. I truly don't know what this human is saying. Orders and requests are the same thing. Actions that force someone to do something. What difference could there possibly be between them?
"No, they're different."
But with a smile full of confidence, as if he's certain of something, he asserts this with such conviction that I can only keep quiet. Yes, it's unreasonable to try to understand anything with humans in the first place. According to humans, we demons are wild beasts that can't be reasoned with. From our perspective, humans are food that deceives with words and gets hunted.
"...Whatever. Anyway, why this village? I thought for sure I'd be taken to the royal capital."
Dismissing further discussion as a waste of time, I change the subject. Why has he kept me in this village? I believe the hero bases his activities in the royal capital. I was certain I'd be taken there, so why not?
"Well... there are several reasons, but one is that I think it's too early to take you there. Even with me, the hero, advocating for you, you wouldn't escape execution. Unless, of course, you want to be executed."
I can't help but grimace at the hero's teasing words. Yes, I had forgotten that possibility. It's a hierarchy that demons can't understand. Normally, the hero, the strongest among humans, should be at the top, but it's not so in human society. The royal family, humans who don't possess actual strength, govern everything. A distorted system of rule. Even a hero can't do as he pleases before them, it seems.
"But that's not the main reason. The ones who saved your life were the people of this village. That's why I thought you should atone for your sins here."
The hero tells me this. It's supposed to be an answer to my question, but I still can't understand it.
"...What are you talking about? You're the one who spared me. The villagers have nothing to do with it."
"No, that's wrong. At that time, I intended to kill you. It was those two who stopped me. You should be grateful to them, Aura."
"That's a misunderstanding. Those two only did that because they were deceived by my pleas for mercy."
This is way off the mark. That was just those two humans being deceived by my disguise. It was simply a result that I, as a demon, had earned. Why should I be grateful? I believe gratitude is something like owing a debt to someone else. If that's the case, I certainly don't owe anything.
"So that's where we start..."
Whether he knows my inner thoughts or not, the hero momentarily shows a melancholic expression, but it disappears as if it were an illusion, replaced by a smile. Somehow, he seems happier than before, though I can't understand why.
"...What's with that face? It's creepy."
"No, I'm just looking forward to what comes next."
Faced with the hero's eccentric behavior, which brings me no joy whatsoever, I can only become melancholic myself. How long will this continue? Even with a demon's longevity, I can't endure this. I must escape from this farce of a prison as soon as possible.
"Oh, right. Before I forget, I have something to give you."
"To me...?"
"Yes, new clothes. Your current outfit is too conspicuous for living in this village. I asked the villagers for some spare clothes."
Regardless of my convenience, the hero unwraps a bundle he had been carrying. Inside are clothes similar to those worn by human village girls. From a demon's perspective, they're just plain, uninteresting garments. Normally, I'd want to tear such things to shreds, but I have to endure. It's certain that I'll be detained in this village for a while longer. In that case, it wouldn't be good to offend the villagers. In terms of pretending to be human, which is a demon's nature, it's not wrong—it's a common tactic. Beyond that—
"...So basically, I just need to change into these. If it's an order, I have no choice, or was it a request?"
Being ordered by the hero and forced to do something is a hundred times worse than doing it myself. I take off the outfit I was wearing and casually pick up one of the old clothes that were laid out. The sizing seems to have been done with me in mind, appropriate for a petite woman. Such a needless consideration. But the lingering human smell is unavoidable. As I'm recoiling from the odor—
I notice the hero standing there, frozen with his eyes wide open. As if he's seen something unbelievable, he's completely rigid. It's as if the submission magic Azelüze has reversed itself.
"...What? Don't worry, I'll wear them. Do you have a problem with that?"
"W-What?! N-No! That's not it! Why are you changing while I'm still here?!"
"...Huh?"
I can only tilt my head at the sight of the hero, who suddenly panics, turns red, and looks away with his hands raised. What is he making such a fuss about? Then it dawns on me. It's my current state—completely naked, as I was born. Of course, I'm trying to change clothes. As a demon, I feel no shame changing in front of a human. It's the same as how humans feel nothing when changing in front of animals. I thought humans were the same, but apparently not. But even so—
"Oh... so that's it. Don't worry about it. Besides, you must be used to seeing a woman's body, right?"
His reaction is excessively innocent. The title of hero is equivalent to that of a Demon Lord among demons. It wouldn't be strange for him to have countless admirers and partners. He must be surprised by the difference in perception between humans and demons. Though that goes both ways. But my expectation is—
—completely off base, as the hero falls silent, like a completely different person from moments ago. Silence. How long it continued—
"...Don't tell me, you—"
"Ah! A-Anyway, I'll wait outside for now! Call me when you're done changing!"
Before I can finish speaking, the hero bolts from the room like a startled rabbit. His escape alone is enough to make me understand everything.
(Is he... really a hero...?)
I can only be dumbfounded by the scene, thinking that perhaps seduction would have been more effective than my Army of Death or hostages, as I silently resume changing by myself—
"—Right, there's one more thing I wanted to show you!"
Change of topic. As if the previous events never happened, the hero returns. It might be impressive how he naturally compliments my changed appearance, but unfortunately, it doesn't strike any chord with me. It would be too troublesome if the conversation went off on another tangent, so I'll pretend it never happened as well. Though only for this instance.
In this silent truce, the hero brings a large bag into the room. It's the kind of bag that adventurers carry on their journeys. The moment he opens it in the middle of the room, its contents spill out. I wonder how much he had stuffed in there. More than anything, I frown at the contents.
"What is this...?"
"Can't you tell by looking? They're grimoires. Look, it says so right there."
They were grimoires. That much is obvious from looking. Some are in book form, others are rolled-up parchments, but they're undoubtedly grimoires. Items that allow a magic user to learn the magic written within them by reading. But that's not the issue.
"That's not what I'm asking. Why does someone like you, a hero, collect so many grimoires? Don't tell me you can use magic too?"
"No, I wish I could, but I'm completely hopeless when it comes to magic. But aren't they cool? Magic is the epitome of romance, and it's beautiful!"
Why is he collecting things he can't even use? As expected, I don't get a sensible answer. Romance and beauty. This is not a divide between demons and humans. It's a divide between me and the being known as Hero Himmel. Apparently, he's been collecting grimoires as rewards while traveling and helping people, and that's how he ended up with so many. With this many in his traveling bag, I wonder what his home looks like.
"I finally found the magic I've been looking for recently... Here it is! 'Magic that Produces Syrup'! And not just that, there are others too..."
Just like a child showing off toys, he picks up grimoires and shows them to me without even being asked. Not that I'm impressed in the slightest. Of course not.
The "Magic that Produces Syrup" is just the beginning. Magic that echoes your voice, magic that scratches your back, magic that peels fruit, and so on. All contents that have no reason to be magic—things that could be called trash or junk. They're called folk magic, apparently, but what do humans think magic is? I was about to voice my contempt but stopped myself. Because—
The hero, who had been happily showing off his grimoires just a moment ago, had frozen while holding one particular book. Unlike before, his expression was something I had never seen.
"...Is something wrong?"
"...No, it's nothing. Anyway, the reason I wanted to show you these was to ask if you could use these types of magic. What do you think?"
The hero asks me while putting away the grimoire he was holding. I see, so that was his purpose. The answer is obvious. Such vulgar magic goes without saying. There's no magic handled by humans that I, a great demon, can't use. But I don't feel like answering honestly. I didn't hone my skills to use such magic. Magic is something sublime, something worth dedicating a demon's entire life to.
"Who knows? If you want to find out, just order me to tell you."
I refuse as a small act of resistance. If he orders me, I'll have no choice but to answer—a meaningless action. But it's definitely my own will. However, that is—
"I see... so you can't do it after all. Frieren could, though."
—defeated in a way I never even anticipated.
"—What? What do you mean?"
"Well, my companion Frieren could do it, so I thought any magic user could, but I guess not. Maybe Frieren was special after all..."
The hero nods as if he's satisfied with this conclusion, and I find myself breathless. My vision unknowingly turns red. This can't be. The hero in front of me is saying that I'm inferior as a magic user. That I'm inferior to that elf magic user. Impossible. That I'm inferior to that low-class magic user who only has a small amount of magical power and was just lucky to have good companions. It's the greatest insult a demon can receive.
"That's not true—! There's nothing that elf can do that I can't! These trivial spells, I could learn them all in one night—"
In that moment, I finally realize my blunder. The hero is staring at me with a smile, as if he'd been waiting for this all along. I've been completely tricked. This guy, he must have planned this from the start, steering the conversation in this direction. A cunning unbefitting of a hero. And the frustration of falling for it. He really is irritating.
"...What are you plotting?"
Swallowing it all, I finally squeeze out those words. A genuine sentiment that's uncharacteristic of a demon.
"I'm not plotting anything so grand. I just thought I'd have you do something that's absolutely essential for living in this village."
"...What is that?"
With a smug look, the hero dramatically reveals his answer. According to him, it's something obvious for living in human society. It is—
"—Work."
Even as Aura was being played by Hero Himmel, her first step into human society was about to begin—