– Test Subject 001-P. Ability transfer complete. No signs of rejection.
The first scene that the child, who would later be known as Parsha, ever saw was the countless gazes watching her floating inside the test tube.
– What should we do? Since this is the first case with no signs of rejection… Shall we wait a bit longer and observe the results, or…
– Continue the experiment.
And among them, the most vivid memory was the eyes of a woman looking at her with a satisfied gaze.
– After all, we have more than enough test subjects.
Eyes that bestowed abilities and a mission upon her, and reminded her countless times of the reason.
Eyes she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried.
Even when she briefly escaped that gaze, it would still appear in her dreams and suffocate her with its chilling stare.
Whenever she recalled it, Parsha would wake up screaming without realizing it.
“Eek!”
Yes, just like now.
“Haa, haa…”
It was an expression that didn’t suit her usual smiling, sly demeanor.
“…Ah.”
Knowing that all too well, Parsha instinctively looked around and then urgently turned her gaze to her shoulder.
And then, her drooping eyes fell again.
‘I really thought this time, I could become completely my master’s…’
The black magic mark engraved on her shoulder for as long as she could remember had faded slightly, but it was still very much intact.
By comparison, the mark imbued with Whitney’s magic had grown a bit darker, but still wasn’t as distinct as the original one.
“…Ah.”
Looking down at her shoulder in disappointment, Parsha suddenly turned her head toward the presence she sensed beside her.
And there she froze, still sitting up in bed.
“Haha… you’re awake?”
“…..”
“Looks like you had a nightmare.”
Whitney, sitting right next to the bed, was looking down at her with his signature unsettling smile.
“Are you feeling okay? How’s your shoulder?”
“…I-It’s fine!”
“For something that’s fine, the wound is still there…”
As Parsha stammered, momentarily at a loss for words, Whitney reached out a hand toward her.
“…Hmm.”
But this time, his hand stopped just before touching her shoulder.
“This is a scar…”
“…So this isn’t the first time, huh.”
In Whitney’s now lower voice, there was a trace of suppressed anger.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“…What?”
“I did something wrong…”
Realizing it right away, Parsha hurriedly apologized, and Whitney tilted his head for a moment before letting out a sigh.
“…Haa.”
In Parsha’s figure, scratching her shoulder unconsciously, he briefly saw the trembling image of Meredia overlap.
“I don’t know who did this to you, but… rest assured.”
“Ah.”
“As long as I’m your employer, no one will be able to harm you so easily anymore.”
With that, Whitney gently held Parsha’s hand and whispered in a soft voice.
Parsha blinked and quietly bowed her head.
“And about the letter this time…”
“I-If you want, I’ll tell you everything I know—”
“…No. That won’t be necessary.”
Parsha broke into a cold sweat and began to speak, but Whitney firmly shook his head and cut her off.
“I’d like you to tell me only when you’re ready, Parsha.”
“Uh…”
As she mulled over his words, Parsha tilted her head with an uncharacteristically blank expression and opened her mouth timidly.
“…I-I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand.”
“What part don’t you understand?”
Still watching Whitney’s expression carefully, Parsha began to speak with increasing uncertainty.
“Of course, I’m confident in carrying out orders or helping master rise to power…”
“……”
“But I’ve never judged things based on myself. Not even once.”
Hearing that, Whitney’s eyes drooped slightly, and Parsha, noticing his pale expression, quickly opened her mouth again.
“C-Can’t you just give me an order? Like, if I value my life, I should spill everything I know right now…”
“Haha, if I did that, I’d sound like a third-rate villain, wouldn’t I?”
“…Ha, sorry. That really doesn’t suit a Demon King.”
Letting out a small laugh, Whitney gently patted Parsha’s head as she covered her mouth in embarrassment.
“It might be a hard request, but… I really hope you can change a little through this.”
“……”
“…You’re my capable steward. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Without realizing it, Parsha began fidgeting with the monocle Whitney had once gifted her, then quickly pulled the blanket up to her eyes.
“A-Again… this feels weird.”
“Yes?”
“Like, it tickles? It’s just… this feeling is…”
Muttering while peeking out just a bit from under the covers, Parsha’s cheeks turned red, and Whitney quietly placed a hand on her forehead and whispered again.
“For now, just rest. I’ll handle your duties for a while…”
“…Ah.”
“I’ll cast a simple sleep spell that helps you relax. Then…”
And with that, a warm drowsiness washed over her.
…She didn’t quite know why.
As Parsha slowly closed her eyes within the sleep, she looked up at Whitney, who was gazing down at her with concern, and murmured inwardly.
‘As I thought, you’re the one I should serve…’
Unlike someone else who never once opened their eyes.
A master she could look in the eye without fear, paradoxically because of it.
A master she chose of her own free will.
‘Even if you’re not the Demon King…’
What was once a means to fulfill her given mission was now gradually becoming her purpose itself.
“…Now, I suppose I must return to your story.”
Chewing on the sensation of the identity that had formed for the first time, Parsha forced her eyes slightly open at Whitney’s suddenly cold voice.
“Riphaelius Mortem Infernum.”
“…Ugh.”
“Do you still not realize that pointless resistance is useless?”
Her master was exuding a chilling killing intent as he stomped on the head of the archdemon, who had been trembling and groveling flat on the floor until just moments ago.
“Hehe…”
Watching the scene and curling her lips into a faint smile, Parsha then fully closed her eyes and thought to herself.
‘…Of course, it would be even better if he were the Demon King.’
Truthfully, beyond duty or purpose, Parsha’s personal taste had always leaned that way from the start.
*****
After putting Parsha—who had surely gone through a lot—into my room to rest, I began the archdemon’s mental reeducation.
A few hours later.
“Alright, then. Let’s review what you’ve learned.”
“…”
I had finally succeeded in taming the creature, at least to a degree.
“Sit.”
“Grrr…”
“Paw.”
“Grrah…”
Sure, I had only gotten it to master the basic commands of ‘sit’ and ‘paw’, but compared to when we first met, it was a huge improvement.
“Good girl. Well done.”
“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you…”
Of course, she still couldn’t help baring her demonic shark-like teeth and radiating murderous intent at me.
Still, it was worth noting that she had fully adapted to being controlled through her true name.
“Congratulations….”
“Y-You really are a Hero, after all…”
“W-Wow….”
As I stood there with a satisfied expression, the maids who had been watching my training session nervously from the garden clapped with pale faces.
“It’s been my dream to raise a pet since I was little. Haha…”
“…I-Is that so.”
Showing off to the maids, I smiled and added in a low voice.
“Yes, this pet in particular… really suits my taste.”
“……”
“She looks strong, good at guarding the house… and it feels rewarding to train her too.”
Of course, I wasn’t being serious.
I was merely following the communication guideline Alfred had left on page 28: “When dealing with people you’re not close to, lighten the mood with a casual joke.”
“Ah, ahaha…”
“T-This pet, right…?”
“…He, hic.”
As expected, my high-level humor of treating a ferocious demon like a pet landed perfectly, and everyone laughed.
Seeing their reactions, it was clear—I must have a real talent for comedy.
‘I should definitely use this more often…’
“Hey, Brother.”
Just then, while I was basking in self-satisfaction, Cecil, who was standing guard beside me in place of the busy Runiel, quietly spoke.
“Sorry. But don’t make jokes like that again.”
“Huh? Was it that bad?”
“It’s not that it was bad… sigh.”
Looking at me with a hard-to-describe expression, Cecil then dropped a bombshell.
“…To be honest, it wasn’t even funny.”
“Gasp.”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who’s worse at jokes than Alfred.”
Even if it was Cecil, this I could not accept.
“…Do the rest of you agree?”
At this point, I had no choice but to pose the question to everyone for an objective evaluation.
“N-No!”
“I-It was funny!”
“I-I didn’t even realize it was a joke at first… no, it was great!”
As expected, the maids who had been glancing nervously at each other quickly sided with me.
“So, who lacks a sense of humor now?”
“…Ugh.”
Feeling triumphant, I looked at Cecil with a smug expression as she rubbed her forehead and shook her head.
“You’re kind of acting like the Demon King…”
“…?”
“No way… there’s no way, right…?”
Riphael, who had been crouched in front of me growling, suddenly narrowed her eyes and muttered.
‘…Come to think of it, this one isn’t the brightest, is she.’
Noticing the dumb look that briefly passed over her face, I quietly curled my lips up in amusement as an idea popped into my head.
‘Maybe… I can fool her.’
She claimed to be the Demon King’s second-in-command, but in truth, Riphael was so stupid that even among archdemons, she was treated as a throwaway.
But what if I could take advantage of that trait and completely fool her?
Maybe I could turn this troublesome demon into a battle force rivaling Runiel.
‘If I really go all in with an act… it might just work…’
The problem is whether I can impersonate the Demon King well enough.
Honestly, I’m not confident.
Would anyone actually believe someone as clean and pure as me playing the Demon King?
“Hm, ahem.”
Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
After glancing around cautiously, I cleared my throat and began speaking.
“Hah. So now you finally recognize the Demon King of this era.”
And at that moment, silence fell over the garden.
“…Brother?”
As the hush continued like a dead mouse, Cecil, standing beside me, opened her eyes wide and spoke.
“Wait, no way… right?”
“……”
“You’re kidding, right? Right?”
As she looked at me, I turned to glance at the maids, all of whom had their heads bowed and were trembling.
‘…Why?’
All I did was lower my voice and act cool for a second.
Why are they reacting like this?
And wait, aren’t I a Hero?
Why are they taking it so seriously…
“…Are you serious?”
As I stood there stunned, trying to salvage the situation, I couldn’t believe what I heard next.
“A-Are you really… the Demon King…?”
Riphael, who had been baring her teeth at me moments ago, was now wagging her tail with a doubtful expression, asking me that question.
‘…This is seriously, seriously going the wrong way.’
Have people always seen me this way…?
Cliche Novel 