The Unveiled Veil (3)
'....'
Eyes lowered, the hero tried to block out the grim future that kept surfacing in his mind.
If there truly existed a god or a world that oversaw and orchestrated all of this—whatever form it took—it surely would not resemble a human.
For humans, among all living beings, possessed the richest array of emotions.
No matter how hard one tried to act rationally, in the end, they were swayed by emotion. If such a being had adopted the likeness of a human, it could never be this cold, this merciless.
'Ah…'
Death loomed near.
His body steadily crumbling, the hero leaned heavily against Daon Hart, unable to keep himself upright.
Even tilting his head back took too much strength. As his head fell limp, his blurred vision filled with a troubled face, framed by a black night sky pierced by three round moons.
A face that said: I don't know what to say.
The hero merely smiled faintly.
There was no need for words. All that mattered was that you lived.
But if—just if—he could choose to hear one last thing…
'My name.'
Not the title of "Hero," but his own name.
But of course, you wouldn't know it. Even he had forgotten it long ago—how could you possibly know?
Once a person became a hero, everything about their past life was swallowed up by a single destiny: to kill the Demon King.
No one ever called their name. Buried beneath that singular purpose, even they themselves stopped remembering it.
'…I take it back. I don't want to see you lose your name.'
I hope the next hero isn't Daon Hart.
As death reached out its quiet hand, the hero slowly closed his eyes.
No matter the outcome, it was done. Whether he had succeeded or not, he felt at peace. Death, if anything, felt like relief.
Because now—he could rest.
'My name… maybe it'll be mentioned once at the funeral.'
If—by some miracle—
He could come back and watch his own funeral…
Would you remember his name?
──Darkness swallowed his vision.
The administrator in charge of one of the four major cities—known as the First City—stood trembling outside the castle gates. A rare sight indeed.
In human terms, an "administrator" was like a lord.
Within their domain, they held authority comparable to that of a king. For such a figure to be this visibly shaken could only mean one thing.
The visit of the infamous Commander of the Zero Legion—a name whispered more than spoken.
Even if it had been another legion commander, protocol demanded bowing and scraping. But this… this was someone on another level entirely. A colossal figure, whose very disposition remained unknown.
Asked for his thoughts, the administrator would've said simply: I'm in trouble.
Think about it.
He didn't know the man's temperament, so flattery might backfire—but being overly formal might offend him, too.
And if he failed to read the mood?
He might soon part ways with the head he'd grown quite fond of over the years.
If you make a mistake, you die. If you make a mistake, you die…
His throat went dry. His back was already soaked with sweat.
He nervously wiped his equally damp palms on his trousers, eyes locked on the carriage door just in front of him, waiting for it to open.
There was only one option.
Act in a way that wouldn't offend him, and figure out his disposition as fast as possible.
So he had to stay sharp. This was someone even the Demon King reportedly didn't dare cross. If he slipped up here, the outcome was obvious.
I want to live a long life and enjoy my power!
At last, the carriage door opened, and a tall man leapt lightly out.
His hair was slicked back, and his features were clean-cut. A noble appearance—but the ominous magic power radiating from him clashed with that image.
Is that the Commander? No—he had magic power. And the Zero Legion's commander was said to be human. He shouldn't have any magical energy at all.
As expected, the man merely held the carriage door open with solemn grace, waiting for someone else to emerge. Perhaps the commander's right hand.
And then, from the shadows of the carriage, a figure in a black robe slowly stepped down.
That's him.
No one needed to say it.
That unhurried gait, that calm demeanor, the sheer pressure that radiated despite the robe hiding his face…
Wearing the very robe that had come to symbolize the Zero Legion itself—who else could it be?
His frame was smaller than expected. In fact, if the administrator had run into him drunk in the street, he might have picked a fight.
But right now, he was neither drunk nor oblivious—he was fully sober, and acutely aware of the atmosphere.
Who was this tall man with such fearsome magical power showing such deference to?
Who was this man with a doctor's bag drenched in blood, fussing over so carefully?
Who were these bloodied figures—clearly fresh from battle—carefully watching the mood of just one person?
And finally—
Who's the one moving with the most composure?
Gulp.
He swallowed dryly once more, quietly cleared his throat, and took a single step forward.
Then, bowing respectfully toward the man in the robe, he spoke.
"Welcome to the First City. We are honored by your presence."
The string of monster attacks had caused a bit of delay, but it wasn't like we were going to stay stuck in one place forever. I figured we'd get here eventually.
Yes—I figured.
Which is to say: I wasn't mentally prepared.
"..."
I sat frozen in place, staring blankly at the open carriage door.
I don't want to get out.
Sure, we were already late, but stepping down from this carriage meant I was officially committed to defending this city from its terrifying monsters.
Which also meant the chances of my lack of skill being exposed would skyrocket. Ugh. That thought made me want to stay inside even more.
While I hesitated, nervously tugging at the hood Edgar had pulled over my head, he called out to me from outside, where he stood holding the carriage door.
"Demon-nim?"
"…Coming."
Reluctantly, I stood.
I stepped down the carriage stairs slowly and locked eyes with a plump demon who appeared to be the city's administrator.
Maybe his face always looked like that, but right now his expression was stiff as a board.
…No way that's his usual face. He definitely doesn't like what he sees.
He was probably expecting a proper commander who'd protect his city—and instead he got some unknown weakling no one's ever heard of. Who could blame him for wanting to cry?
Right now, he was probably inwardly screaming, "We're doomed!" or cursing the Demon King, "Damn that bastard!"
I'm not dense enough to offer a cheerful greeting in a situation like this.
So I stayed quiet, saying nothing.
After a moment, he seemed to have composed himself. Taking a step forward, he gave a deep, respectful bow.
"Welcome to the First City. We are truly honored."
Then came the flood of praise.
How it was a once-in-a-lifetime honor for the great Commander of the Zero Legion to visit, how the citizens would feel reassured…
It was definitely praise—but not the greasy, overdone kind. It felt polished. Smooth. Practiced.
And that's how I knew for sure.
This guy's a pro! Fast emotional recovery, natural delivery—he'd clearly done this kind of flattery more than once.
I admired him silently, not bold enough to cut him off—until Edgar, who'd been quietly watching, stepped forward with a deadpan expression.
"That's enough flattery."
"!"
Whoa—wasn't that a little too blunt!?
The guy was probably already disappointed that some no-name showed up, and now that no-name's subordinate was acting high and mighty?
In situations like this, it's not the subordinate who gets blamed—it's the superior who looks weak for letting it happen.
Sure enough, the administrator's eyes went wide in shock.
But he quickly masked the reaction with a strained smile and gave a small nod—like a true professional.
"You're right. I got carried away by the unprecedented honor of welcoming the Zero Legion's commander. I apologize for the offense."
"I am Edgar, adjutant to Lord Demon Arut, Commander of the Zero Legion. If we were simply here for sightseeing, I might've let you finish your speech. Unfortunately, we're here to defend the city, so let's move on to the main topic."
"Of course. Thank you for your patience."
The administrator bowed deeply again. When he straightened up, Edgar had already transitioned fully into business mode, shuffling through the documents he'd brought from the carriage.
He picked up a pen and began asking questions.
"How often have the monsters attacked? At what intervals?"
"Ah… There hasn't been any real pattern. But if there's one thing I can say for certain, it's that we'll probably be attacked again within the week."
"What was the scale of the assault? How many? Would you say nearly every monster in the area came at once?"
"Yes, exactly. Monsters need to eat, after all—and it felt like their survival was on the line. It looked like every beast in the region had gathered. The assault was overwhelming. In fact, more than the actual battle, I'd say we were crushed by their sheer momentum."
"Momentum, huh… Sounds like they were desperate. Well, if morale was the real problem, then I'd say that's as good as solved."
'As good as solved'? That sounded encouraging, but… why was he looking at me as he said that?
I wanted to think I was imagining it, but the way his gaze flicked away the moment our eyes met gave me a very bad feeling.
He's definitely up to something!
H-Hey, wait a second…
"Any other notable details?"
I was ignored!
"It'd be more accurate to treat this like a siege defense rather than a typical monster encounter."
"That's what he says, Demon-nim."
"…Huh?"
They'd been having a whole conversation without me until now, and suddenly I'm being included? What do they want from me?
I clamped my mouth shut, not feeling particularly cooperative, but Edgar—clearly waiting for a response—prompted me again.
"What would you like to do?"
"..."
There's nothing to do.
I'm not about to go out hunting monsters and end up getting wrecked. I'll just stay holed up in here, heart pounding, until they show up on their own.
But of course, I couldn't say that out loud.
"Demon-nim?"
"…They said the attack should come within a week, right? Then we wait. No need to go greet them outside and make things easier for them."
"Then during that time, the legion members…"
"They're free until the next attack. Drink if you want, go shopping if you want. Just be ready to respond the moment something happens."
Apparently that was exactly what everyone wanted to hear—because the legionnaires' faces lit up like the sun.
Seeing their joy, I straightened my back with rare confidence, feeling proud of my decision.
Sure, it was a perfectly reasonable call—I couldn't exactly make them stay on edge in full combat readiness for a week with nothing happening.
And yeah, as their commander, they probably would've obeyed even if I'd ordered them to—but that would've stacked a lot of resentment points against me. Not ideal.
So this way, I score a few popularity points and make myself look good.
Anything to improve my chances of surviving, really.
You guys get it, right? If monsters attack, the first person you protect is me, okay?
While I was quietly grinning to myself, the administrator—who'd clearly been watching for the right moment—took his chance and cut in.
"We've prepared lodging for you. Shall I show you the way?"
"Oh?"
He was smooth—nothing in his tone or manner risked offense. Definitely a seasoned pro.
I gave a small nod and turned to the legion members, whose eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Alright, let's just check out the lodging. After that, you're free to do whatever you want."
"Woooohoooo!!"
"Long live Demon-nim!!"
Their cheers echoed through the air, and I nodded with satisfaction.
Yes, yes. Go enjoy yourselves to the fullest.
Because I sure as hell will.
I'm getting a drink tonight.
It's been a while since we've been in a city. And this one, no less—also known as the City of Indulgence.
Alcohol, gambling, prostitution—the whole place was practically a shrine to vice.
And of course, what I was looking forward to most… was the booze.
Thrilled by the thought, I managed to keep my excitement off my face for dignity's sake, but inwardly I was humming with glee as I followed behind the administrator.