The New Hero (2)
Of course, having experienced situations like this before, he remained calm and composed.
'If the dagger doesn't work, then a trap it is.'
He pulled out a silver thread made from monster hide—so sharp that even touching it would cause a cut. Once stretched taut, it became a deadly snare.
He reached the spot the man was heading toward in advance, set the silver thread, and waited eagerly for him to approach. But just as the man was walking straight toward it, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh.
He didn't have to say it out loud—it was obvious.
'He noticed it.'
There was no way it was coincidence that he stopped right in front of the silver thread.
It wasn't something that could be seen with the naked eye, and yet he still spotted it while wrapped in robes and layers of black cloth. Clearly, this man was no ordinary opponent.
As the assassin nervously observed, wondering how he'd react, the man—after standing there for a moment with an annoyed look—turned and grabbed a nearby soldier.
"Do you know where Edgar is?"
"He's probably in the barracks, sir. Shall I call him for you?"
"No, I'll go myself."
Damn. Is he going to reveal the presence of an intruder?
Time to retreat.
The fact that his skills weren't complete fiction was already enough of a discovery. There was still value in returning now.
'But…'
A strange sense of stubbornness welled up inside.
A baseless confidence whispered that just a little more, and he'd succeed.
Even though he knew this kind of confidence was the most dangerous of all, the assassin couldn't resist the lingering frustration. He silently followed the man from behind.
"Edgar."
"Demon, sir?"
As the 0th Corps Commander parted the curtain of the tent and entered, a sharply handsome man sitting at a table stood up in surprise.
He was instantly recognizable from the documents on key members of the Demon King's army.
'Edgar, the 0th Corps Commander's adjutant.'
A man even considered a candidate for corps commander.
Two dangerous individuals had gathered in an enclosed space. The risk of discovery had doubled—or tripled. The assassin held his breath, heart pounding.
Fortunately, the commander seemed unaware, casually taking a seat and speaking.
"Do you know anything about the new hero?"
The assassin had expected him to speak about the intruder. Why bring up Cruel?
'What is he planning?'
Could it be that he had realized the assassination order came directly from Cruel?
But why? It could've come from the Emperor himself, or perhaps one of Cruel's subordinates acting independently.
Cold sweat trickled down his back. The assassin exhaled slowly and focused on their conversation.
"No, sir. I heard the 2nd Corps Commander is currently investigating. He wears a helmet, so no one has seen his face. All we know is that he's highly skilled with a sword…"
"…"
"Apologies, sir."
"No, it's fine. But what's that?"
Although his eyes were hidden beneath his robe, it was clear the commander's gaze had shifted to a bottle on the table.
Edgar noticed too and let out a soft "Ah," before standing up. He pulled an extra cup from a bag and placed it before the commander.
"It's alcohol. Would you like some?"
"…Is that all right?"
"Yes. This is a battlefield. A little drink to relieve tension is acceptable."
"In that case…"
The 0th Corps Commander picked up the bottle.
As the cup filled with liquor and was lifted to his lips, the assassin discreetly flicked a small stone from his pocket into the corner of the tent.
Tap.
A small but distinct sound echoed through the tent. Both men turned their heads toward the noise.
Yes, this was the moment.
He snapped his fingers, slipping poison into the commander's cup—and into Edgar's as a bonus.
"What was that sound…?"
"Probably something bumping inside the bag. I just took a cup out from it."
"I see."
The 0th Corps Commander didn't seem too concerned. He raised the cup to his lips—
But just before the liquid reached the rim, he lowered it again.
"Edgar."
"Yes, sir?"
"Has anyone been here?"
"No. Other than you, sir, no one."
"I see…"
The assassin's heart dropped.
He had to leave. Now.
Whether it was instinct or reason driving him, he quietly stepped backward.
As if anticipating it, a calm voice grazed the back of his neck—cool and composed, like it could snatch him at any moment.
"Quite a lot of flies around today."
No one in that tent could misunderstand what that meant.
Edgar's expression hardened as he stood. Almost at the same time, the assassin bolted out.
If he fought here, he'd die for sure.
And he had a reason to survive.
'I have to report this.'
That the 0th Corps Commander's skill wasn't exaggerated—
'He's a dangerous man who toys with assassins…'
"…This… is the 9th Corps Commander?"
"That was what I blurted out instinctively when I saw the 9th Corps Commander's corpse."
I stared down at it, my face undoubtedly pale with shock.
The 9th Corps Commander I knew was definitely a female demon with long black hair. Her personality had been rather bold and cheerful—I'd even had a decent impression of her.
Where was the long black hair now?
Where was that smiling, confident face once full of life?
All that remained was a lump of minced flesh.
Nothing more, nothing less. Just that.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
First came confusion, then shock, and then a wave of emotion—worry.
'Am I going to end up like that too?'
No, if I joined the battle in this state, I would definitely end up like that.
Screw being a hero—I just wanted to go home.
I wanted to go back—desperately.
I fled from the tent where the corpses were arranged. I was in such a hurry I nearly tripped over a rock.
"What's a rock doing here...?"
Do these idiots not maintain the paths?
At the very least, the roads inside the military camp should be kept clear.
Even as irritation bubbled up inside me, I was already scanning the camp for a place to hide.
Then, in an instant—like waking from a trance—I stopped dead in my tracks.
'That's not possible.'
A faint sigh escaped my lips.
I knew it too. With all these eyes around, hiding was impossible.
'But I can't just stand still either.'
My judgment was quick.
If there's no best option, go with the next best. Between the worst and the less worse, choose the lesser evil.
If I couldn't run or hide, there weren't many choices left.
I grabbed a random nearby soldier and asked,
"Do you know where Edgar is?"
"He's probably in the barracks, sir. Shall I call him for you?"
"No, I'll go myself."
I'd barely shaken off the guy who insisted on tagging along—I wasn't about to summon him again like some lost puppy.
Edgar's barracks weren't far.
When I entered, Edgar, who had been sitting at a table, stood up in surprise and called my name.
Wondering what I was there for, he waited for me to speak. I got straight to the point.
"Do you know anything about the new hero?"
"I heard the 2nd Corps Commander is investigating. He wears a helmet, so no one's seen his face. All that's known is that he's a skilled swordsman…"
Damn it. With no information, how the hell was I supposed to survive?
As I racked my brain for another approach, Edgar seemed to misinterpret my silence as anger. Watching me carefully, he slowly bowed his head.
"My apologies."
"No, it's fine."
Why did everyone around me seem to have a talent for apologizing for things that weren't their fault? They didn't even realize that just made things more awkward for me.
Anyway, I could feel the atmosphere getting uncomfortable, so I looked around for a different topic to steer the conversation.
That's when I noticed the bottle on the table—and the half-filled glass beside it, as if it were showing off.
'…Alcohol? Wow…'
So he wouldn't let me drink, but he was helping himself?
"And that?"
"Ah."
With a brief exclamation, he turned toward his bag, pulled out another glass, and set it in front of me.
Then, with surprising politeness, he said,
"It's alcohol. Would you like some?"
Shouldn't he have asked if I wanted a drink before getting the glass?
But Edgar knew me too well.
Even under normal circumstances, it wasn't easy to drink freely—who in their right mind would turn down a rare chance?
Of course, I hesitated slightly, since it felt awkward to immediately accept so eagerly.
"…Is it really okay?"
"Yes. This is a battlefield, after all. A little light drinking to ease the tension is fine."
"In that case…"
My face was covered anyway, so without holding back, I smiled broadly and took the glass, pretending to give in reluctantly.
Edgar poured the drink, and just as I picked it up—
Clink.
A small but distinct sound rang in my ears.
Instinctively, I turned my head toward the source. I saw a space that looked no different than usual.
"What was that sound…?"
"It must've been things clinking inside the bag. I just pulled out a glass, remember?"
"I see."
So I hadn't misheard it. For a moment, I thought it might've been a hallucination.
Feeling slightly relieved, I raised the glass to my lips. But just before I tilted it, I stopped. The back of my hand stung slightly as I held the glass.
I'd almost drunkenly attempted to drink without even untying the cloth covering my lower face.
'How embarrassing.'
I hoped Edgar didn't think I was an idiot. I really didn't want him to think I was pathetic.
…Time to change the subject.
Hiding my embarrassment, I called Edgar's name as casually as I could.
"Edgar."
"Yes, Lord Daemon?"
"Has anyone been here recently?"
You've got your own life too. You probably meet people now and then.
Might as well use this chance to shift the conversation and maybe learn more about him. Like whether he's met any former comrades here among the soldiers or something like that.
Unfortunately, Edgar had an unbelievably clean slate.
So clean, in fact, that he didn't have a single acquaintance here.
"No, no one besides you, Lord Daemon."
"…I see."
Poor guy.
I clicked my tongue inwardly and looked at him with a tinge of pity—then frowned.
Ever since I arrived, there's been this incessant buzzing. The damn flies were driving me mad.
Of course, this is a battlefield, so it's only natural that crows and flies gather. But maybe because it's been so long, I just couldn't get used to it.
I couldn't take it anymore, and ended up voicing my frustration in a casual tone.
"There sure are a lot of flies around."
"!"
Edgar suddenly stood up with a start, as if something I said had struck a nerve. I flinched a little at the look on his hardened face.
What the hell? Why is he reacting like that? I wasn't even that annoyed. I used polite speech, and my tone was perfectly normal, wasn't it?
He strode around the tent, checking every corner. Then he picked up his own glass from the table and seemed to concentrate, as if casting a spell. His expression hardened further as he called out to someone outside.
Then, he crushed the glass in his hand and muttered in a low voice:
"There was an intruder."
Shards of broken glass and drops of liquor fell from his hand.
And then—chaos broke out.
Ben came rushing in after hearing the news. Upon seeing the broken shards and spilled liquor, he scolded Edgar harshly for destroying evidence. Then, he took the glass still in my hand and tested it for poison.
And sure enough—it was laced with deadly poison.
The entire camp was turned upside down under the command of the 1st Corps Commander, Jaecar.
All soldiers had to go through identity verification. The verified ones then scattered to search for the intruder.
Meanwhile, I received an apology from Edgar for not realizing sooner.
"It's my fault for being slow to react despite the signal you gave me. I'm sorry."
Wait, what? What signal? I didn't know either! How the hell did you figure that out? Seriously, this guy is unbelievable.
Well, whatever the case—there's only one thing I can say in this situation.
"It's alright."
The phrase I've been sick of repeating ever since staying in the Demon King's castle.
If I had actually known in advance, maybe I could accept his apology with a clear conscience… but no, I feel too guilty to act like I deserve it.
Anyway, Edgar went out to join the search. Left alone again, I sat blankly at the table, staring at the bottle of alcohol.
There may have been an intruder, but since there were no casualties, I felt unusually calm.
So calm, in fact, that I started thinking something that would've made anyone nearby sneer in disgust:
'I wonder if that bottle has poison in it or not…'
Yeah… I still hadn't given up on the drink.