MSR-V3-5

“Don’t tell me... That’s what they mean by ‘hero’?”

“What are you talking about? Sir Weeb is most definitely a hero.”

“That’s his name, huh!?”

The Demon Lord couldn’t help but break character. Both his appearance and name were fully committed to it.

“...Sir Weeb has the moniker of ‘White Comet.’”

“He is white, but isn’t he just pale from never going outside?”

“...The other paladin has the moniker of Red Devil.”

“Those are the other way around... Where do I start?”

Two newtypes came to the Demon Lord’s mind, but he tried to ignore that image. His ridiculous name aside, Weeb gave a quick wave to the crowd and dismounted his white horse, stopping the string of carriages he was pulling behind him. Seeing this, the children formed a line at once, erupting in cheer. Before they knew it, numerous guards had gathered and started to organize the crowd. To the Demon Lord’s surprise, what happened next was a food distribution. Weeb gave out bread and cheese to the children and a bowl of wheat porridge to the adults, using a large pot. Now it was understandable why everyone welcomed him with smiles.

“Does he always do stuff like this?”

“He goes from one Northern Nation to another for at least half of the year.

Amazing, isn’t it?”

Mikan answered the Demon Lord with an impressive attitude. In contrast, the Demon Lord was skeptical. He wasn’t really into donating and volunteering. In fact, if a person asking for donations were to live in a nice home, he would call them out to sell the house and donate the money.

“Is this stunt for popularity? Or are heroes forced to do these things? Or else, does that Tzardom order them too?”

“How cynical are you? The Tzardom keeps telling him to stop, but Sir

Weeb keeps buying kids bread out of his own pocket.”

“That’s quite interesting.”

“...In his own country, he is criticized for sticking his nose into foreign affairs and courting favors.”

“...Really?”

The Demon Lord’s expression changed. His skeptical gaze changed into that of a bird of prey, a piercing glare that wouldn’t have missed the slightest change in the man’s expression.

“Dinner’s canceled. You two go enjoy yourselves.”

“Did you forget that you were going to buy!?”

“Get something to eat with this.” He tossed them a coin.

“Huh...? Hey, this is a gold medallion! What are you thinking!?”

The Demon Lord tried to leave it at that, but Yukikaze grabbed his sleeve. Her expression was filled with sorrow. Even the Demon Lord couldn’t help but feel guilty for clouding that flawless face. He added, gently, “well, uh, hrm. Get anything you want. Split it if there’s too much food.”

“...Dining with you is more important, Mister Fox. I don’t need money.”

“Then let’s go tomorrow. There’s no rush, really.”

“...Promise? If you don’t, you have to sleep next to me.”

Yukikaze held out her pinky, and the Demon Lord frowned. Just imagining doing a pinky promise in the middle of the street gave him a headache. Without mercy, Yukikaze wrapped her pinky around his and onesidedly solidified the promise. The Demon Lord watched this happen to him with an apathetic gaze, then disappeared into the crowd.

“...Dinner or sharing a bed? It’s a win-win situation for me.”

“You’re pretty sneaky, aren’t you?” Mikan mumbled before becoming enchanted with the glittering gold medallion in her hand, jumping into the air with a triumphant fist to the sky.

“We’re going to feast tonight! It’s his money, I’m going to eat it all!”

“...In the same bed. Together ’til morning. Stuck together. Melded together.”

The pair left with smiles on their faces, each with a different reason to be happy.

——The slums of the town of Rookie.

Weeb was walking down a quiet alley at night. With a tattered cloak covering everything but his ordinary face, he almost looked like a beggar on the streets. He was in a part of town that every city here had: the slums. Where there was light, there was darkness, and the brighter the light, the darker the shadow. Even the financially bustling town of Rookie was no exception.

Lower class residents and adventurers gathered at the dimly lit food stands here and there, shoveling cheap, disgusting food down their throats. Weeb approached a stall and spoke to the owner. “What do you have today?”

“Wheat porridge for three bronze coins. Four if you don’t have your own bowl.”

“All right. One please, with the bowl.”

“Got some dried radish, too. That’s two extra bronze coins.”

With the wave of a hand, Weeb refused the add-on and took the bowl of wheat porridge. He sat on a rock in the alley and sipped on it.

“Price went up from last year. Fried potatoes cost two bronze coins more now, but come in a smaller portion.”

“Oh, really...?”

Someone responded to Weeb talking to himself. It was the Demon Lord, concealing himself in Stealth Stance. Weeb didn’t show any sign of surprise, though, and continued. “The oil was bad, too. It’s been used for a while... That can’t be good for you. No more lard for stir-frying vegetable scraps, and there’s no salt in this porridge, either.”

“You have an eye for detail.”

“Not as much as you do.”

With a chuckle, Weeb sipped on the porridge again. With close to no flavor, it was difficult to swallow. Compared to the porridge he had served earlier, which had been properly seasoned, he couldn’t help but be disappointed.

“You’re interesting. Immoral good deeds are better than moral inaction.”

“Immoral... I can’t argue with that.”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s a compliment... Not everyone can tour countries all year to serve people on the streets. Especially when it endangers your status in your own country.”

“Status... I just do as I please.”

“Your own decisions are that important to you...?”

The voice chilled Weeb to the bone. He looked up for the first time, hand instinctively reaching for his sword. The Demon Lord’s tone was malicious enough to warrant it; it felt as if countless hands had sprouted from the earth and were entangling him...

“...Now, I must ask you. What do you want?” Weeb said, but the Demon Lord continued his long silence. While he couldn’t be seen, Weeb could feel his playful attitude.

“Interesting. You’re interesting. Very interesting.”

When the Demon Lord finally spoke, it may as well have been a child’s reaction. He implied no malintent. That was his honest reaction.

“I want you.”

Straightforward. Cutting right to the chase. A display of how sincere the Demon Lord was being.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you terrify me. Ever since I felt your eyes on me, I’ve been trembling.”

“Sorry about that. I have to see everything for myself before I make a decision.”

“It’s admirable that you keep doing your own work despite your power.”

“When I have enough men, I’ll delegate the crap out of my work. With more capable people under me, my life gets easier, work becomes more

efficient, and more people benefit from it.”

“Simple, yet true.”

Having finished his porridge, Weeb stood to leave. The Demon Lord called to him, “I’m developing the village of Rabbi in Holylight right now.

One day, I want you on my side... I will have you on my side.”

“...You don’t cease to terrify me.”

Weeb left, without turning around. The Demon Lord walked in the opposite direction. The first encounter between the hero and the Demon Lord.

——While Light and Darkness crossed paths...

Deeper into the slums, one bottom-rank adventurer was sulking. He was wobbling closer, then farther from a food stand over and over. There was no force behind his steps whatsoever.

“M-Miss Michi...”

“It’s you, Hammer. Got scammed again?”

Michi, a middle-aged woman, acknowledged the portly, middle-aged man approaching her. Upon her comment, Hammer apologetically shrunk his heavy body.

“Someone sold you some weird crap, again? You did get your cut, didn’t you!?”

“W-Well... I did, but they used it to pay for their food...”

“Get it together! They’re just stomping all over you, making you their money bag!”

“I-I’m sorry...”

“Stop apologizing! Dampens the mood around here!”

Her thunderous scorn caused Hammer to roll up like a roly-poly. Michi

raised her voice again, even more frustrated by his miserable state.

“I’ll give you one bowl. Eat it and scram.”

“T-Thank you so much... Again...”

Without even answering, Michi swiftly filled the wooden bowl and handed it over. It was filled with rice, an extremely rare crop on this continent. It came with a good portion of cheese on top, like a risotto.

“O-One of these days, I’ll pay you back double...”

“Don’t you act like you got a spine!”

“B-But I know things are tough with you, Miss Michi...”

“My business must be screwed if even you’re pitying me.”

Michi turned her nose up. Hammer was an adventurer notorious in Rookie for being useless. Michi’s food stand in the slums wasn’t turning much of a profit, either.

“W-Well... I-I was thinking of catching a gig in Euri...”

“Don’t matter where you go. You’ll quit the minute your feet get wet.”

Hammer had come to this town to make a living as an adventurer, but suffered an injury soon after his arrival. Now, he was scraping by each day collecting scraps in the dungeon.

“T-There’s a big fleet of ships going out of Euri... Hiring a bunch of porters.”

“Ha! You’ll fall overboard and drown before you know it,” Michi laughed.

Since she frequently watched Hammer trip over nothing on the street, she couldn’t imagine him surviving on a ship.

“I-I’ll make enough to come back, and bring back any pay I can...”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Michi kept on, and Hammer’s head drooped even lower. Not that Michi had any malice towards him, but Hammer was just too pathetic. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut as she watched this grown man get bossed around and mocked by adventurers that were at least a decade younger than him.

“T-This time... I’ll bring some back.”

“Don’t let people bully the money out of you. I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, though.”

Gazing up at the murky sky of the slums, Michi sighed. Hammer just barely kept from tearing up at how pathetic he was, and choked down the contents of his bowl. Neither of them had a clue as to what was being transported over in Euri.

## March of the Demon Lord

——Outside the town of Rookie.

Outside the town, there were many carriages parked and some tents set up to accommodate Weeb’s party. When touring the nations, he always made sure to set up camp outside town, since he would be approached non-stop by people of importance if he stayed anywhere within it. Some only wanted to thank him, while others tried to piggy-back off of his success, use him for their own benefit, or even headhunt him for their own country. Those offers contributed to his worsening reputation in his home country. So, now, even in scorching heat or frigid blizzard, Weeb had taken it upon himself to stay outside of any town he visited.

There were few knights that accompanied him. Any knight found to be traveling with Weeb would catch heat with the higher-ups of the Tzardom and be knocked off their career ladder. While Weeb had hired a coachman for each of his carriages, he was only joined by three proper knights.

“Sir Weeb has a woeful expression upon his face.”

“Perhaps something troubles him...?”

“What could it be?”

The trio was called the Trinary in White, all of them skilled knights. In a word, they were brawny. With muscles built like mountains, these were unparalleled fighters who had conquered battlegrounds with Weeb. Each had a spine of steel and devoted themself to the paladin. By this point, the higherups of the Tzardom had given up on them. While the Tzardom only saw them as a band of troublemakers, they had to keep some sort of tether on them to keep them from serving another country and causing even more damage to the Tzardom.

“But look how Sir Weeb glows...!”

“How white he glows!”

“I feel purified just from gazing upon him.”

Just as the knights described, Weeb was enveloped in a white light. It was no hallucination, but caused by the box on his back. It contained a weapon more powerful than any Legendary, causing the box to constantly emit the Whitening spell. No matter how rough or dirty the battle, Weeb’s body would always remain spotless. The untainted paladin. Weeb had been sitting on a rock by the bonfire, but finally spoke up.

“Do any of you know of the village of Rabbi?”

“Of course we do,” Kaiya, leader of the trio, answered. The other two were Ultima and Mushroom, by the way.

“As I recall, there is a large population of poor Bunnies living there.” The trio agreed with Weeb’s statement. The Tzardom of Light and Holylight did have a decent relationship. While they had the religious difference in what they worshiped, the Great Light and the Angels shared some characteristics. The Great Light was only recorded in literature for having led the Angels. No one knew if it really existed or what deeds it had accomplished. In that sense, one could say that the Tzardom of Light was a more faithful theocracy by nature. On the other hand, the existence of the Angels had been proven, and many of their doctrines were practical. One could say that Holylight was less devoted.

“What about the village of Rabbi, Sir Weeb?”

“I’ve heard a few times during our journey that the Demon Lord has appeared in Holylight.”

The Trio chuckled, unsure of what to say. Of course, the Trinary had heard the same rumor, but had brushed it off.

“With all due respect, Sir Weeb, the Demon Lord...?”

“If that Demon Lord resided in the village of Rabbi, what would you make of it?”

“W-What... Do you mean?”

“Never mind... It was a silly question.”

Weeb turned back to the bonfire. The eyes under his glasses were endlessly calm and clear. By just looking at them, the knights were filled with an indescribable sense of fulfillment. They muttered to themselves:

“What a beautiful person he is...”

“Sir Weeb is our true light.”

“How I wish his strong arms could hold me ’til morning.”

When Mushroom whispered that to himself, the air changed. Their glares sharpened as if they could kill.

“Shut your filthy trap, Mushroom.”

“I will be the one to receive Sir Weeb’s blessing one day.”

“Keep dreaming! Neither of you pieces of filth will taint the White

Light!”

They were powerful, honorable knights that could stand up to their own country. Unfortunately, all three of them saw Weeb with a romantic eye, mixing their chivalry with infatuation. It seemed that the hero had just as much to worry about as the Demon Lord did.

——A cheap inn in the town of Rookie.

“Oh, today’s a day off?”

“That’s right. We always rest the day after we go into a dungeon.”

The next morning, the Demon Lord and Mikan were having breakfast in the inn’s lobby. Yukikaze was still asleep. Not that she was oversleeping, but she needed to sleep in order to recover. The pair had learned through their years of adventuring that plentiful rest recovered both HP and Stamina, so they made sure to reserve a day for rest after dungeon-crawling.

“Good call,” the Demon Lord nodded, sipping on his cup of bitter coffee. In baseball, for example, the starting pitcher would never pitch the very next day. He wouldn’t perform as well, and that could lead to injury. Especially when it came to life-or-death combat, it only made sense to make sure to go in fully rested.

“You two know what you’re doing, surprisingly. Good for you.”

“Where’s all this coming from? Are you sick?”

“It’s just that, when I was sixteen or seventeen, I only thought about goofing around. Considering that, you two are standing on solid ground.”

“Weirdo...”

Mikan disregarded the comment, but the Demon Lord was sincere. In the peaceful modern-day Japan, who could say that they were completely independent, making a living off of risking their lives each day? The Demon Lord had a newfound respect for the pair, and for Weeb.

“Not that I’m interested... But what did you do when you were younger?

Where did you come from, anyway?”

“When I was your age, I went to school.”

“School? Like where you’d train to be an adventurer?”

“I guess it’s a place for learning basic academics... Actually, by interacting with a variety of people, perhaps it was a place to learn human relationships, or human society as a whole on some small scale.”

The Demon Lord’s explanation surely wasn’t very clear for Mikan. It

would be difficult to accurately describe a school to someone who’d never seen one, but Mikan did listen with decent curiosity, her ruby-red eyes staring at the Demon Lord.

“You’re technically a human, then? Jury’s still out, though.”

“We’ll see... I may not be the one to decide that.”

“Huh?”

“I’m headed out for a bit. Since it’s your day off, why don’t you play with this?”

The Demon Lord produced a Pop-up Pirate from the pitch-black void and handed it to Mikan.

“W-What’s with the tiny barrel!? Wait, how were you carrying this!?”

“Take turns stabbing the barrel with the little swords. First one to make the pirate pop out loses. When Yukikaze gets up, you should give it a try with some sort of wager.”

With that, the Demon Lord left the inn. Left behind, Mikan inspected each part of the barrel, confused.

(Now let’s farm some SP with those monsters.)

Using Quick Travel, the Demon Lord jumped to the seventh level of the Bastille Dungeon they had explored the day before. He didn’t need to pay admission to get in this way.

——Bastille Dungeon, level 7.

Just like the day before, it was a dark cave. With light-imbued Spell Stones implemented on the walls here and there, it was decently illuminated.

Noticing the Demon Lord, the monsters began to swarm.

(I wonder what their levels are.)

He launched a big kick against a charging Raging Chicken. The chunky bird was blown away, crashing into the wall. The Demon Lord checked the admin screen to see that his SP had increased from 29 to 33.

(That one was level 4.)

In the game, a successful first attack added a bonus of 1 SP. Beyond that, players would earn the SP equivalent to the level difference between them and their enemy. The SP system was a little more complicated when it came to retaliating attacks, but the Demon Lord didn’t expect to not make the first move against any monster here.

“I’m glad my level’s low,” the Demon Lord mumbled to himself.

All of the advisors in the Sleepless Castle were at level 1, too. Because of their powerful stats and skillset, the EXP requirement to level them up was set astronomically high. There were a few more reasons why this was the case, but in the game, a higher level didn’t necessarily guarantee an advantage. Akira Ono had disliked trudging through games by power leveling. In his world, players had to fight smart or die.

(Let the farming begin...)

The Demon Lord carried on through the dark cave. The monsters here were all unintelligent, guaranteed to attack the Demon Lord without sensing his overwhelming upper hand. They were merely sacrificial lambs for his growth.

## The Ruthless March

“Like strolling through an empty field...” the Demon Lord muttered to himself.

He wasn’t particularly cheerful about it. In fact, he seemed rather disappointed. This dungeon was for beginners to take on, after all. There were no signs of dangerous monsters until deep down. With his Demon Lordly powers and all, he couldn’t expect any worthy opponents here. “You again. Can’t get enough, huh?”

A Tin Man stood before the Demon Lord. Peeling off its metal coating could earn any adventurer a pretty penny, but this was an enemy most Rookies would struggle to take down. However, before the Demon Lord, this monster was no more than a tin can. The Demon Lord approached without another word and slammed his fist into its metallic body. Without even having to use Sodom’s Fire, the Tin Man went flying, scattering shrapnel everywhere before crashing into the wall. In the dungeon today, the Demon Lord had fought all of his battles hand-to-hand, exploring various combat styles.

“No money to be made, but this is perfect for farming SP.”

After defeating each enemy, the Demon Lord had not touched them at all. He had no technique nor inkling for taking apart or processing these monsters. The evil Demon Lord had a fountain of gold, after all. No need to scrape for pennies by dismantling these dungeon creatures. Defeating one monster after another, the Demon Lord kept going down.

When he finally reached level 10, something changed.

“One more idiot crawling on his own!”

“Today’s a lucky day.”

A pair of rough-looking adventurers appeared, flashing their knives. Their looks alone gave off a dangerous vibe. In fact, the stench of blood, like that of rusted metal, filled the air. The Demon Lord wrinkled his nose at it.

“I’d ask you what you want... But I have a good guess.”

“Ooh, smart one. Leave every coin you got.”

“Hold on... He doesn’t have any loot on him.”

No one could blame the muggers for being confused. While someone confident in their skills could dungeon-crawl alone, they usually carried with them a porter, or at least some sort of box or bag to carry their loot. This man, though, had nothing of the sort.

“I doubt I’d walk away scot-free, even if I did pay.”

The Demon Lord glanced over at a headless body on the ground, where the stench was coming from. The headless body seemed fake somehow, like a well-made dummy. He was having a hard time registering the fact that it was a real body.

“That guy got tonight’s special... Thought he could fight his way out.”

“You don’t want to turn out like that, do you? Now, pay up.”

“Dead men tell no tales... I’m sure your livelihood is at stake if you get ratted out up on the surface. You dealt with the situation.”

Despite the predicament he was in, the Demon Lord couldn’t help but imagine the American Gold Rush era. When gold mines were first discovered, everyone mined for themselves, until someone discovered an alternate way to earn their gold... killing and stealing from those who had mined their share. A less laborious and time-consuming method. It was clever, albeit immoral, of course. As the Demon Lord took a step forward, one of the muggers snapped a spell.

“Now, stay right there... Deep Sleep.”

“Ragh...!”

The Water spell cast from the mugger’s finger caught the Demon Lord’s eyes. That instant, the Demon Lord’s knees buckled and his body faltered. A class 2 Water spell, effective against monsters as well as humans. Since the Demon Lord had no Magic Defense to speak of, it was critically effective.

“Gr... Ragghhhhhh!”

Then, a dark and sinister fog rose out of the finger on his right hand, enveloping his entire body in darkness in the blink of an eye.