The New Hero (1)
The border where the Demon Realm and the Human Realm meet—
A volatile zone where skirmishes with the Empire never cease. Naturally, this place is commonly referred to as the "front lines."
First Legion Commander Jeikar stared intently at the man gripping his hand—Zero Legion Commander Daemon Arut.
Because the Human Realm and its sunlight were just across the line, Daemon had his black robe pulled low over his face. Yet even then, a rare expression appeared: the corners of his lips slightly lifted in what seemed to be a smile.
'So he really does show more emotion once he's outside the Demon King's Castle.'
No wonder he was always stiff-faced in there—there's no blood to be seen inside those walls. Must have felt suffocating.
Jeikar figured the recent bout of monster-hunting had likely quenched the man's thirst for battle just enough, and now, with the prospect of real combat ahead, his face had brightened. Internally, Jeikar made a decision: if he's looking forward to it that much, I have to make sure he gets to fight—no matter what.
And that thought quickly found its way out of his mouth.
"You've heard that the 9th Legion Commander is dead, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Because of that, things are a bit chaotic right now. I'd like you to join the battle as soon as it starts—would that be alright?"
My name is Daemon Hart.
I'm a nobody, really. Just a plain old human who, for some absurd reason, holds the undeserved title of Commander of the Demon King's Zero Legion.
Honestly, it's all a bit much. I get anxious just thinking about what'll happen once the truth comes out. That's why I've always tried to keep a low profile.
But even if it's burdensome, even if I worry about the consequences, I've never resented this position.
──Until just a little while ago.
"Goddamn it…"
I don't think I've ever hated this job more than I do today.
I blankly stared at the black cloth being wrapped around my arm like some dead fish. It's a familiar item to me—enchanted cloth used when I have to deal with humans or be exposed to sunlight.
It was said the Demon King himself enchanted it. What kind of magic did he put on it again…?
"…It blocks sunlight and helps maintain a stable temperature… or something like that."
"Yes, and recently, His Majesty added another function."
"Jeez—don't sneak up on me. Wait, what? What kind of function?"
"An automatic repair function. It won't fix it if it gets torn completely, but for minor wear and tear during combat, it'll repair itself."
"Oh…"
Not even slightly happy about it.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Ed continued wrapping the cloth around my arm with tireless enthusiasm. It wasn't just a cloth—it was basically a black bandage, wrapping itself with infuriating speed.
'You could slow down a little, you know…'
The words circled my mind, threatening to escape my lips several times. But eventually, they turned into a weary sigh and dissolved into the air.
Forget it.
There's no point saying anything to a guy this clueless about subtlety. All it'll do is waste my breath—or worse, backfire.
He's the kind of guy who, if I said "you can take it easy," would go "Nonsense, sir!" and start wrapping even faster.
"Could you try moving your hand?"
I looked down at the black cloth that now wrapped even my fingers snugly, then flexed and curled my fist. The stretchy material expanded and contracted with my movement.
The light, yet snug pressure was—annoyingly—perfect. I cursed inwardly, nodding slowly.
"It's comfortable."
"I'm glad to hear that. Now, please offer your other hand."
I held out the other arm, and Ed, ever polite, gently took it and began wrapping again.
True to his role as a man obsessed with his duties as an adjutant, he didn't complain about the hassle of dressing a weakling like me. He just focused on his task, making sure not a single gap remained in the black wrapping.
Watching him work stirred a sudden question in me.
I'm so sensitive to sunlight that even a little exposure could be dangerous… Doesn't that piss him off?
An annoying superior, not even a demon, just some fragile human. And yet here I was, dragging him all the way to the front lines and willingly putting myself in danger.
Why would anyone follow someone like me without a single word of complaint?
This went beyond just having a "good personality."
…Wait. Is he actually not a demon?
No, that couldn't be right. I shook my head, recalling the one time I saw Ed's bare arms.
Both were covered in strange markings—tattoos, maybe? Whatever they were, no human could replicate them. No doubt he was a demon.
"Could you hold still for a moment?"
"Ah."
I froze. If the cloth wasn't wrapped tightly enough, it would only hurt me later.
There's no way I'll go completely unexposed to sunlight on this battlefield. Here on the border, where human and demon territory crash into each other countless times a day, exposure is inevitable.
Yeah, you've probably guessed it by now—
I've been deployed into battle.
"Shit."
They were going to find out eventually anyway, so why the hell did I let myself get lured in like that…?
I grumbled inwardly at the sly Demon King and thought back to my earlier conversation with Jeikar.
"You've heard the 9th Legion Commander is dead, haven't you?"
At the time, I didn't think much of it. Just thought, Yeah, I've heard.
"That's why I'm here to help, right?" I figured that was it. Nothing more.
I planned to leave the fighting to Ed and the other soldiers while I stayed safely in the rear, observing.
The Demon King had always said I could fight only if I wanted to, so I didn't think it'd be a problem.
That's what I thought, but then…
"Because of that, things are a bit chaotic right now. I'd like you to join the battle as soon as it starts—would that be alright?"
I froze mid-smile.
This… isn't right. Something's going off the rails.
I forced a stiff grin, trying to shove back the wave of dread rolling over me.
"You mean just… the soldiers, right?"
"No, you too."
Damn.
I failed to deny reality, and I also failed to back out. Who wouldn't curse at this point?
I let out a hollow laugh as I watched Ed's swift hands finishing the knots.
With this, my death draws closer yet again today. Truly, it's maddeningly fulfilling.
…Damn it.
"It's done. Now for your face..."
"Yes."
Ed picked up another cloth that was lying beside him.
It didn't take long to cover my face.
He wrapped the black cloth up to my nose, then pulled the robe over me. The robe, which completely covered even my eyes, seemed like it would obstruct my vision—but thanks to the Demon King's personal enchantment, I could see just fine.
On top of that, unless I removed it myself, the hood would never fall off. It made me think the Demon King really had nothing better to do.
'That absurd amount of magic power really is monstrous...'
Only a Demon King could do something like this. No other demon would even consider wasting magic in such a way.
A demon's magic is finite. Once used, it doesn't replenish.
Magic defies the laws of the world.
It may seem trivial, but a spell that keeps a hood from being removed defies gravity, and a spell that allows visibility through a covered hood breaks the rule that you can't see through opaque materials.
And breaking rules always comes with a price. Permanent loss of magical power aside, the day of the Hero's arrival is said to be drawing near.
'The Demon King knows all this and still acts like this.'
I'm neither the Demon King nor the Hero—how could I possibly link magic use to the Hero's emergence?
The Demon King said it himself.
And if he's using magic this freely despite that, it probably means he's confident he can win even when the Hero appears.
'Well... it's not my concern.'
I fidgeted with the hood covering my eyes and got to my feet.
"I'll check the 9th Corps commander's body and look around the command tents."
Of course, that was just an excuse. I wanted to kill time—and more importantly, find somewhere to hide.
Once battle begins, no one will have time to look for me. I just need to slip away at the right moment.
With that kind of foolish hope, I stepped outside—and then:
"Wow..."
"It's really the 0th Corps Commander…"
"..."
—I could clearly see every pair of eyes outside turn to me.
The soldiers' gazes lit up with fervor as they looked at me.
As I watched the morale surge in real-time, I was glad I had my hood on and quietly accepted my fate.
…So much for hiding.
"The 0th Corps Commander?"
Inside the commander's tent, buried in a mountain of reports.
Cruel, the newly acclaimed hero of the Empire, raised his head without realizing it. His cold, sunken eyes locked onto the soldier.
Those eyes—sharp and hard—didn't suit the soft yet strong title of "hero," but they had brought victory in war, and so the soldier stood upright without a hint of doubt.
"Yes, sir. According to the scouts, the morale of the Demon King's army is rising because of that. Meanwhile, our own morale…"
"…This is troublesome."
He trailed off, but it wasn't hard to guess the rest. Cruel sighed in frustration and quietly pressed his forehead.
The 0th Corps Commander—wasn't that a well-known figure?
The Demon King's joker. Said to be stronger than even the 1st Corps Commander, who acts as the Demon King's proxy.
Despite being strangely famous, any attempt to learn more about them only results in a suspicious void of information.
If such a figure has joined the field, the tide of war could shift instantly.
"If the 0th Corps Commander's presence is real, the situation changes. We need to consider defeat rather than victory."
"..."
"Engaging them directly is dangerous."
Then what other way is there to deal with them?
In truth, he already had the answer.
Someone else might come up with a better idea, but to him, this seemed the best option.
Even so, he hesitated. Because of that ridiculous title—"Hero"—that bound his actions.
Unconsciously, his index finger began tapping the desk in a steady rhythm.
With only silence and faint noise circling the tent for a while, he eventually began stacking documents neatly to one side. Then, as he began writing something down, he spoke:
"I'll send an assassin."
"There's almost no chance of success."
The reply came from a man standing silently in the corner, like a folding screen.
Despite the firm objection, Cruel answered immediately, as if expecting it, his expression unchanged.
"If the 0th Corps Commander's abilities are real, yes."
"But what if the 0th Corps Commander's skills have been exaggerated? Or maybe he's letting his guard down because he's surrounded by the Demon King's army. It's even possible that the 0th Corps Commander is just a fabrication to boost morale."
If even one of these possibilities turned out to be true—and could be confirmed by a single assassin—that alone would be a major gain.
Cruel looked at his perceptive subordinate, who had fallen silent the moment he mentioned the 0th Corps Commander's skills. Rather than rebuking him, he gave the order again in a cold voice.
"Send the assassin."
The battle had entered a lull.
The reason: Cruel, the Empire's fourth hero, who had been relentlessly pressing the attack, suddenly halted the battle upon hearing of the 0th Corps Commander's involvement.
Behind that decision was a clear intention—to determine whether the 0th Corps Commander's strength was genuine or inflated. The assassin, who had been given this critical mission, now stood inside the Demon King's command tents, nerves on edge.
[Remember this: Your priority isn't the 0th Corps Commander's head. Your top priority is to verify whether his strength is real.]
At the time, he scoffed at those words internally.
As if. Maybe he's strong, but the rumors were clearly blown out of proportion.
Stronger than the 1st Corps Commander? Even the Demon King doesn't dare act recklessly around him?
If that were true, the Demon King's army would've already swallowed the Empire whole.
'Today, I'll pop that bubble.'
It was the confidence of someone more skilled than any other assassin. The very fact that he had been entrusted with this crucial mission and had made it this far was proof of that.
Even if he couldn't take the head, he was confident he could at least deliver a fatal wound and escape. With that resolve, he began his work and went after the 0th Corps Commander, but...
'This is insane.'
He was in panic within 30 minutes.
Finding the 0th Corps Commander wasn't difficult. He just had to go where every soldier's gaze was fixed.
The problem was the commander's uncanny ability to evade assassination.
At first, he waited for the commander to emerge after checking the 9th Corps Commander's corpse, then timed a dagger throw perfectly.
Of course, he didn't expect it to land easily. It was more of a test strike—meant to gauge the target's ability, in case the rumors were false.
Still, it was a serious attack. If the 0th Corps Commander's skills were mediocre, he wouldn't have even realized what happened before dying.
But then—
"Ah."
As if he had predicted it, the commander casually bent down at just the right moment!
The dagger sliced through empty air and buried itself in the trunk of a completely innocent tree.
If he had simply dodged in silence, the assassin would've assumed it was sheer skill.
But the real issue was what he said after dodging:
"What's this rock doing here…?"
He tripped on a rock?!
No, no way. I can't be fooled by that. Even as he says that, he's scanning every corner of the camp.
He's pretending for the sake of his subordinates, but he's clearly searching for me.
That means this is now a game of wits.
Will I find him first, or will he kill me before I do?