The “Harbinger of the Demon Lord”

He was fine. There was no scratch on his arm, and with one quick flick of his wrist, it was clear he had taken no damage. No poison. Nothing, he could keep fighting.

Having deflected the attack from the rabid creature, Frederick and the others immediately readied their weapons. It landed on the ground on all fours with a devilish smile, flaring its teeth like a predator ready to consume its prey. Attack. That’s what they should have done the moment they saw it, but everyone just stood on guard.

The reason was simple. Everyone, every single person on the hilltop, was able to tell… what lay in the beast’s eyes was absolute confidence.

Throughout all known history, it is believed only the most powerful of demons were capable of linguistics, much less that of the human tongue. The most recent being from a former Demon Lord four hundred years ago. Yet here it was, a demon already producing a legendary feat, hiding its true power behind the body of a frail, helpless, little girl.

So seeing one here now, all they could do was watch with every fiber of their bodies on high alert.

One thing warriors who have fought countless battles in their time naturally gained was the ability to sense battle aura. It didn’t matter whether they were beast or man, a child of the world or a product of the Dark Lord, everything had a battle aura. It was what alerted them to the existence of the giant creature prior, and helped them anticipate its attacks. Such a thing wouldn’t be possible here. The demon before them had concealed her battle aura perfectly. This was akin to fighting against a predator blind in the dark, they had to be ready for anything.

“Well!? Which one of you will be first!?” it shouted with a devilish laugh. “If none of you will attack, then I will go first!”

Without pause, the beast leaped off the ground toward Frederick with its fangs on full display.

“TIME TO DIEEEEEEEE—GUH!”

“Huh?”

While airborne, the Harbinger of Azermon received a sharp kick to the side and got flung ten meters to the side until it crashed onto one of the carriages.

“Uuuuuuuuuugh…….” it groaned.

Everyone was still alert and did not let their guard down, but upon closer inspection, something was rather strange….

The confident demon lay on the ground, frothing at the mouth with spirals forming in its eyes.

“What is that?” the one to deliver the kick, Sir Logan, said. “I heard a commotion, and saw that thing.”

“M–Master! This is…” Frederick tried to find the words but was stunned by what had just happened. The demon that could speak had shown itself out of nowhere, and easily got hit? No, there must have been more to it. Its entire body could have been poisoned or intentionally took the hit for some other reason they didn’t know.

“No, Nout’n, don’t touch it!” Frederick shouted.

“Uhm… Sir Frederick~, this one’s unconscious,” Nout’n replied, poking the little demon girl’s nose. “I think Master Logan’s kick knocked her out. That or landing head first in the wagon.”

“...What?”

*******

Once the sun settled over the horizon and in its place came the glimmer of the moon, the villagers had already long since evacuated and headed for the kingdom. Here in the mining town of Mirtue, manatite ores, mythril, and mana infused gems were all in abundance. Yet now knowing the tunnels had been compromised, the village was no longer safe. Despite fending off all the demons, this was another terrible loss for humanity.

Still, despite everything, in the heart of the village, huddled around a campfire, the seven had other things on their minds.

“Pardon me,” Sir Logan said, deep in thought. “Might you reiterate once more?”

“Have you gone senile, old man?!” Robin replied. “We’ve told you three times already!”

They had explained everything leading up to the Harbinger “Ilagan” being knocked out, but no matter how many times they recounted, Sir Logan struggled to grasp what had transpired. Currently, the demon was tied up to a nearby tree, snoring and drooling like a normal girl. If not for her tiny horns and fangs that ultimately were too little to cause any serious damage, she could have been mistaken for such too.

“The Harbinger of the Demon Lord Azermon, huh…” Sir Logan crossed his arms.

“Do you know of that name, Master?” Frederick asked.

“No, but if it is a Demon Lord, and anything like the Demon Lords of myth and legend, then I fear there would be no more hope for humanity.

The fire cackled as everyone went silent. First it was the dragon that was slowly reaching farther and farther north, and now the potential of a new Demon Lord. When the Dark Lord reigned a thousand years ago, the four great heroes of legend had to first conquer all twelve demon lords, each said to have the power to reshape and desecrate entire lands with a swipe of a hand. Powerful beings not meant for mortals to battle. That age had long since passed. The situation had truly grown dire.

“Ngh…” the demon grunted, slowly regaining consciousness. “Ngh… mmmm…”

It had a warm and soft smile on its face, as if waking up from some of the most pleasant dreams ever. It licked its lips and blinked a few times, taking a good look at its surroundings.

“Mmmmh… mm–? Eh? Huh? HUH!?”

Finally, it realized the predicament it was in.

“Wha–huh!? Eh!? H–Hey! You sacks of meat, how dare you tie me like this!” it shouted.

It groaned and squirmed, trying to get loose, but no matter how much it tried, it was unable to.

“Ngh! Nggggggh!!!”

The rope was not enchanted or reinforced with any spell. They would have considered doing so had it not been for how quickly it went unconscious after one relatively weak strike from the Red Knight. Still, no matter how much it squirmed, it quickly lost its breath, tired.

Watching this unfold, Sir Logan once more pinched between his eyes, trying to comprehend the situation.

“Hey, can ya shut yer trap already?” Darakota said, throwing a twig onto its forehead.

“Gah–! H–How dare you treat me like this! Don’t you know who I am!?” it shouted.

“Yeah yeah, Irgna the carrier of Agmon or somethin’.”

“The Ilagan, harbinger of the Demon Lord Azermon!”

“Eh? Ain’t that the same thing? Yer just a twerp, after all.”

“No, it’s not! And don’t call me that!”

The demon’s face quickly flushed red, tears beading around its eyes. It seems Darakota’s words rather easily got under its skin. Everything from the way it looked down to the way it spoke just seemed more like a child than a proper harbinger of the being that’s supposed to bring them all the ruin. Seeing it like this, Frederick didn’t know what to think.

“Why don’t we just ask it ourselves?” Tristan said. “Hey, you.”

“I’m not ‘you,’ I’m the Ilagan!”

“... Tell us more about Azermon.”

“Listen to what I’m saying!”

Completely ignoring “The Ilagan,” Tristan continued.

“If you don’t answer us, we can just kill you right now.”

Tristan’s voice, now void of emotion, sent chills down the demon’s spine. Beads of sweat quickly streamed down its face, but it quickly collected itself and replied with a mocking smirk.

“H–Heh… if you want to know that badly. Lord Azermon will be the greatest being that will ever exist. A demon of pure power and infinite potential. The likes of which you mortals can only ever dream of!”

“Will be, so he doesn’t exist yet?” Tristan pushed deeper.

“W–Well… not yet. But when he does come–!”

“When he does come, what?”

“You’re going to… sorely regret… treating me… like this…”

Slowly, the demon's voice trailed off, as if coming to realize something, the mocking grin on its face also disappearing.

“What is it? Continue,” Tristan prodded.

“Ugh…”

“Hmm… tell us, Harbinger of Azermon, what is your goal, or I should say, what is your role here?”

From the start, something had bothered Tristan about Ilagan’s existence. For a “harbinger,” it didn’t quite match the image he had in mind. If he were to think of one, it would be akin to King Thorian’s herald. Not a child inside a shell who didn’t seem like they ever had any reason to escape it, being trapped inside that giant monster.

“Well? Answer me.”

“... How dare you talk like tha–GUH–!”

“Answer me.”

Tristan had landed a sharp kick onto the demon’s gut, knocking all the air out of it and forcing it to take time to catch its breath. Saliva trickled down its mouth in shock.

“H-Hey, Tristan…”

Almost as if instinct, Frederick immediately stood up. But Sir Logan from the corner simply raised his hand, signalling him to stop.

“I am… the sacrifice that will awaken it,” the demon said. “Once my body gets consumed by the pit of Vek’nar, Lord Azermon will awaken and finally fulfill Asmodeus’ will and rule over humanity.”

“Asmodeus’ will…”

Asmodeus, a Demon Lord from four hundred years ago. Whenever “Asmodeus’ Will” is mentioned, it always refers to the domination and absolute control over humanity. Finishing what he could not do due to his defeat by the hands of a former Dragon Emperor and his adventuring party.

The more they heard, the more it became clear this was real. But even then, there was a silver lining.

“So without you…” Sir Logan said. “This new Demon Lord Azermon will not come to be?”

A cold chill ran down the demon’s spine. It couldn’t give an answer. But even without one, everyone else already understood. Soon after, the Black Wizard stood, tilting his head.

“Shouldn’t we just kill it now?” he said as though it were the simplest thing in the world..

“Eh?”

Everyone was left silent, except for the demon in question.

“Y–You wouldn’t dare–!”

“Be quiet, I’m not talking to you, filthy demon.”

Nout’n shut her down with a sharp and serious glare. His expression clear behind his mask.

“If it really is the harbinger of Azermon, it’s best we just kill it here and save ourselves the trouble.”

“Y–Yes… I agree with T–The Wizard…” Junge chimed, having returned back to his younger form.

“I don’t know why we even kept it alive for this long.”

“Yeah, let’s just kill the thing and get outta here.”

Robin and Darakota soon followed, seemingly ready to just kill it, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so if ordered. Only two in the group looked at it differently. The demon gazed at all the apathetic eyes ready to eliminate it right then and there and gulped. There was no sense of hatred or cruelty in their eyes. All the demon was to them was a threat to be destroyed before it could bloom. In turn, the demon gave a sharp glare.

“I’m not afraid of you!” it said, sweat trickling down. “Touch me and I’ll kill you. I’ll kill every single one of you!”

“Shut up,” Tristan cut it off, giving another sharp kick.

Tears started welling up in its eyes. It tried squirming out again, but it was impossible. It was trapped. The rope dug into its flesh from how violently it thrashed, but nothing mattered. Tristan unsheathed his sword, ready to strike, but was stopped right before it landed.

“Wait,” Frederick called out. “Can’t we bring her with us?”