Chapter 72 - Why You
Was this merely her whim?
Still looking back at Elenoa, dumbfounded and having forgotten the presence of the Hero's Party, Louis called out his wife's name. "Elenoa?" His voice was a perfect mixture of doubt, suspicion, and worry.
Despite being the Demon Lord, Louis still reacted in a human-like manner before her, and so Elenoa pressed her request. She descended the stairs, stepped onto the red carpet, and rashly entered the battlefield.
The one who panicked at this was, as expected, not the Hero, but the Demon Lord, famous for his cold-hearted cruelty.
"No, wait. Why are you—"
"Please."
Louis's Barrier could not repel her; instead, it accepted her into its interior.
He raised both hands to catch her as she came running lightly, trying to jump into his arms. Elenoa, accustomed to this, plunged into his chest without hesitation. Her clean and lovely scent tickled Louis's nose.
"See?"
She buried her face deeper into his embrace, looking up at him with a pleading gaze.
Louis could not withstand such cunning behavior.
"Umm, well... that's..."
Just as he was about to give in, thinking if it's just a little...
A monochrome scene flashed through Louis's mind.
—Silver hair fluttering before his eyes. Meeting the gaze of 'her' lying collapsed on the red carpet. Blood splashing onto her cheek. He saw the beloved body, which had rushed forward to acknowledge victory, crumble to the floor. His arms, wandering as if trying to gently catch her. Blue eyes that seemed to say they could not understand at all. That void made his body freeze.
...Was it a daydream?
Suddenly, Louis found himself unable to resist the softness of her body pressing against him deliberately. He feared the loss of her fragile life.
"...It is no good after all. Wait here."
He strongly rebuked Elenoa's selfishness, but she did not change her mind.
"Louis, young boy."
This address bound Louis.
She knew that if she called him that, he would not disobey.
It was the same as when Louis often called her "Elie" when scolding her, trying to reach her very core. She, too, checked him with that name which evoked a 'guardian.'
"Please."
Stripping away the heroine-like attitude of a small animal, what stood there was a single fairy with strong eyes.
Surprised by this change, Louis reached out to touch Elenoa, who had pulled away. But he stopped immediately.
What she wanted was not a husband who would protect her, but an honest 'boy.' Weighing the heavy aura of resolve emanating from her, the dangers of combat, and various other concerns, Louis contemplated for a full ten seconds.
Finally, he made a face as if he had ground up a bitter bug and swallowed it.
"...You called me 'boy.' One forbidden phrase, ten points deducted. Remember that for later. Once you are satisfied, I will handle the rest."
Louis left her there and walked toward the throne.
His interest seemed significantly dampened. He appeared tired of maintaining his tone as the Demon Lord.
However, as he departed, he gently took a lock of Elenoa's hair and kissed it—a fluid 'expression of affection (spell)' combined with 'spite'—which dealt a thorough damage to both Elenoa's heart and the Hero's sanity.
"Yes."
Elenoa smiled beautifully at Louis's back.
Permission had been granted by the Demon Lord.
Finally turning to face the Hero, she held the hem of her black one-piece dress and bowed elegantly.
"I shall be your opponent from here on. I am Elenoa Stylus, the Demon Queen."
"Elenoa... why are you—"
"Please be aware until you leave my presence."
She did not listen to the Hero's words.
The Hero moved his lips, saying "why," and stared at Elenoa.
"My lord will not let you return. But I am kind, so... if you wish to withdraw, please leave immediately. I will give you one minute. If you remain here after that, please keep in mind that you may lose your lives. Think carefully."
I beg of you.
Elenoa announced this to those she deemed enemies, her voice permeating every corner of the vast space.
Her arbitrary and merciful words were, of course, heard by Louis as well. He merely exhaled with a "Haa" from his throne. —He did not know what she intended, but he thought it could not be helped since Elenoa was 'kind.'
The Hero did not retreat. Perhaps convinced after glimpsing a fragment of Elenoa's benevolence, he gained momentum like a fish returned to water and attempted to save her.
"You are being deceived. I have not forgotten your courageous figure when you saved me back then."
"Thirty seconds remain."
"...Elenoa."
Deceived. Was she being held captive for something important? Or was she being controlled?
Even though he threw words meant to resonate with her heart, they did not reach Elenoa.
She began to sing numbers.
—Twenty, nineteen, ... fifteen, ... ... ten.
As she counted down the time limit, her face was like that of an exquisite mechanical doll.
The numbers went from two digits to one,
"...eight, ...seven, ...six, ...five."
They had entered the time where it would be too late even if they ran for the magic circle now.
Originally, the thought of retreat did not exist in the minds of the Hero's Party. And the numbers ran out.
"Zero."
Elenoa was—already behind the Hero.
"Gh!"
Clang. The sound of metal breaking rang out.
It was the sound of Elenoa's weapon—a dagger—being broken by the Hero's sword.
The Hero, who had reflexively tried to cut off her arm, immediately drew back his sword and, using his trained legs as springs, landed far in the rear.
"You must not run away."
She muttered, holding another dagger in her hand, and moved toward the Hero.
It was a slender, light-looking silver shape without a guard. At first glance, it looked like elegant silver. The Hero, astonished that the dagger should have been broken just moments ago, opened his mouth to speak, but upon finding a companion stealthily approaching from behind Elenoa, he shouted their name.
—No good! I came to save Elenoa, my benefactor! It would be meaningless to kill her here!
Because he held such thoughts, his resolve was still insufficient.
In this place, the Hero was the only one who could not accept that Elenoa was on the Demon Lord's side. The small girl with red hair behind Elenoa thrust out her fist, saying "There!"—but Elenoa's blade grazed her shoulder.
"Gh...!?"
It was impressive that she reflexively used her gauntlet to shift the trajectory.
However, the girl could not feel relieved.
After all, Elenoa had not even looked at the girl.
She had simply swung one hand behind her. A dagger was gripped in that hand. The blade had been released at a speed barely visible to the girl. By the time she realized it was a throwing type, it was too late; the girl's shoulder was thinly sliced, and red blood dripped from it.
Elenoa's silver hair swayed lightly.
With her back to the girl, who twisted her face in regret behind her, Elenoa focused solely on the Hero. And in her hand, there was yet another new dagger.
The weapon currently in vogue for the all-powerful Elenoa was the throwing knife.
Precise, merciless, and cold blades appeared in her hands endlessly, whether thrown or broken.
Whoever she resembled, her fighting style was insidious. No matter how many people attacked her, she maintained an annoyingly calm expression and steadily stabbed into their openings.
Louis achieved victory without moving from his spot, but Elenoa moved and stabbed. There was little difference in the mental burden placed on the opponent between taking no damage at all and having their attacks lightly evaded. Nevertheless, Elenoa did not think of herself as cruel in the least, so Louis thought she had quite bad taste.
After draining the stamina of the Hero's Party, Elenoa called out to the inner throne, "Hey, Louis."
She could fight, but she could not deliver the finishing blow against humans or her own kin. Therefore, she must have wanted to rely on the Demon Lord for the end. Louis thought so, and while considering how to dispose of the Hero's Party, he replied. He began to mentally prepare himself so that he could act immediately if she said, "Please handle just the end."
But her request was different from his expectations.
"Sorry, I'll take a little mana."
"Eh... that?"
"Yes."
"...Is it absolutely necessary?"
"Y-yes. Sorry. It will be over soon, so... um..."
"...Please do not overdo it."
Having received permission from the Demon Lord, Elenoa spread her wings. They stretched taut, shining in blue-silver. In stark contrast to the Hero's wings, they were delicate and entirely unrelated to strength.
She was a fairy. A beautiful individual even among fairies.
That sanctity was soon stained red.
"Fah... ah..."
Elenoa's cheeks flushed. Trying to suppress the embarrassing voice that had leaked out, she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Her hot breaths were uncontrollable, and despite being on a battlefield, Elenoa tightly closed her eyes in pain. She hugged her own body, which felt as if it would 'break' just from the wind caressing her skin.
An obscenely lovely her.
The seductive atmosphere of enduring great pleasure was strange in this setting. She seemed aware that she was in a very embarrassing state.
Louis wore a bitter expression, saying, "...That is why I told you not to show that face to others..." He thought that only he should know of her in such a state, but this was unavoidable when granting a fairy large amounts of mana.
"Ha... ah, fuu..."
The beautiful creature's cries were subsiding.
Her wings were gradually, gradually turning red from the base.
From blue-silver to the color of dark, thick blood. It emitted a sweet and horrific stench, like a sinister curse.
"Gh... No good, stop her!"
Startled by the voice of the blue-clad priest, the Hero's Party moved toward the writhing Demon Queen.
"No way... to think she was poisoned by humans...!"
The Hero lamented. For a fairy, having human mana 'fed' to them was an unbearable humiliation. To be kept alive in that state was akin to having a fairy's dignity trampled upon. —If she were a fairy raised in a normal environment.
But Elenoa had willingly accepted the mana just now.
The Hero, who had witnessed that scene, was not so naive as to believe he could still bring her back. His former savior, Elenoa, could no longer return. She had gone to the other side.
The Hero poised his sword to stab, and the black-haired samurai dashed forward while shouting.
Elenoa's wing veins were being filled with red.
—This is bad. Something terrible will happen if this continues!
The premonition that floated into the minds of all members of the party was not mistaken.
"...Eh."
Zero points, zero, zero, zero... In the world of decimal places marking a single second, what the Hero saw filling his field of vision was.
" Delicious "
It was Elenoa, smiling blissfully.
At first, Louis did not understand what had happened.
Because he could only see her back.
He did not know what had occurred between them at that close range. There was a fatal blind spot there.
Elenoa had utilized it.
"...Gah... ah..."
The Hero staggered and stepped back several paces. Moving unsteadily away from Elenoa, he held the center of his chest.
The silver dagger stuck there could not be hidden, it seemed.
"—Hero-sama!!"
The blue-clad priest shouted and tried to run to him.
Drip, drip. Heavy water-like sounds rang out. The Hero nearly dropped his sword but endured, keeping his grip.
Seeing the bleeding that the Hero could not suppress with his hands, Louis finally grasped the gravity of the situation. The reason his brain, which usually worked faster, did not function at this moment was because the development was unexpected.
That Elenoa Stylus.
To think she would 'try to kill' someone. Such a thing—he had thought it impossible.
But from the Hero's wound, the killing intent was clear. Elenoa's dagger was deeply embedded.
The blue-clad priest opened his mouth to chant healing magic, and then—.
"Stop!"
Louis shouted.
Elenoa must have heard him.
Yet she, who was overflowing with benevolence, gentle, soft, and beloved, did not stop her hand of killing intent.
In the next instant, from the necks of the blue-clad priest, the black-haired samurai, and the red-haired girl—Elenoa's daggers protruded. They danced eerily, twitching, before collapsing to the floor. Their pupils lost focus, not knowing where they looked, and white foam overflowed from their mouths. They looked like crabs, but they did not look delicious. The white foam gradually turned a cute pink.
Elenoa did not look at them at all, not in the slightest.
She walked leisurely toward the distance she had created from the Hero, spinning her dagger playfully with skilled hands, kurun, kurun.
—No good!
He did not know what she was thinking to commit such atrocities, but at this rate, she would kill her own kin.
Louis instinctively reached out and created wind to restrain her.
Elenoa had anticipated this.
They had not been married for a hundred years for nothing.
Facing the wind coming toward her, she thrust out her hand just as her husband did, releasing the mana she had taken into herself all at once.
Of course, she did not think she could counter the Demon Lord's own mana with this.
She only needed to buy time to swing her blade.
Kurun.
Kurun.
—Splash.
Elenoa reversed the dagger she had been toying with and, carelessly as if sweeping it away, cut the Hero's neck.
There was no stagnation or hesitation.
With the blade still stuck in his chest, the Hero spurted bright red life fluid from his neck.
Elenoa pivoted on her heel and turned toward Louis. The hem of her skirt fluttered cutely.
"Hehe," she smiled shyly, her cheeks covered in blood. Her right arm was soaked in red, and from the blade tip held in her dangling hand, drops of fairy bodily fluids dripped one by one. The color of the carpet deepened, turning black.
"Really, this feels terrible."
"...Elie... what have you done..."
"Killing one's own kin is not allowed. Unless one is truly broken, or cornered... it cannot be done."
Her hands were trembling.