Chapter 28: A Kiss
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
The Demon King worried half-heartedly that the script might be uncovered, then closed the window. The curtains were drawn shut as well, cutting off the sunlight and the sounds of conversation outside. With the door and window closed, the room became quiet and peaceful again.
A room full of silence. A room full of… loneliness. —Actually, that was quite nice. After taking in the room, the Demon King closed his eyes and collapsed onto the bed that barely fit his Demon King status.
Outside the inn, a small squad of passing mages, after exchanging greetings, saw the Hero walking out of the inn looking a bit out of sorts.
The thief bounced forward first, as usual, eagerly rushing over. “I remember you! When we traveled together, you and I both caused a lot of trouble—pretty fun, huh?”
The archer followed close behind, expression cold and indifferent despite the thief’s noisy enthusiasm. He showed little interest in the outside world or the Hero they were seeing again.
The warrior walked alongside the mage at the rear, bringing a steady, serious air to the group as he gave a slight nod. “Hello.”
As the team’s leader, the mage smiled and responded to the Hero’s greeting, then glanced toward the inn behind the Hero. From a certain corner, it seemed someone had been watching. The mage thought this as they accepted thanks. “Long time no see,” they said, responding to the Hero’s farewell.
***
Within the quiet room, a voice came faintly through, muffled and unclear.
“…Coming down soon… soldiers… weapons…” What? Coming down? Soldiers? Weapons?
As the mind tried to catch the words, the voice became clearer with the effort.
“Did everyone take their gear? I’m coming down soon, wait! Put Lilith’s wooden shield up front to protect the warriors’ weak spots. Black, arrange the dolls according to the attack-defense map to make sure every soldier stands where they belong. Joshua’s weapons need to be distributed to each soldier, ensuring that every one of us, friend and foe, is the bravest knight on the battlefield, each guarding their faith with the most solemn ceremony. Then, I’ll—ah!”
A loud bang sounded, as if something had fallen hard from above, crashing to the ground. Following the startled cry came a shout, “Your hand!”
Chatter buzzed on, indistinct and messy—dolls, knights, but no clear context. Still, one hand became vividly clear amid the noise. It held some large rusty iron shards, much bigger than the hand itself, white and delicate. Several streaks of blood trickled from the edges of the metal onto the pale skin, quite visible and a bit alarming.
—Though the hand looked small and tender, it was just a little blood, so it probably wasn’t serious?
The Demon King thought so when he saw the hand. Meanwhile, the speaker—whose identity was unknown—grew worried and pulled in someone nearby. Maybe Lilith, maybe Black, or someone else. They surrounded the injured hand, examined it, and talked anxiously, repeating over and over, “What do we do? What do we do?” What else could they do?
The Demon King thought casually, and the speaker seemed to realize there was no other solution. Their voice sobbed, “Then let’s find my parents. Wahhh, does it hurt? Never mind, if it does, I’ll feel the pain with you. I’m going to get beaten up… Wahhh, maybe I shouldn’t have brought you with me…”
Their cries were full of regret and fear of punishment. As they spoke, the hand holding the shards slowly relaxed. The iron fell to the ground, revealing a palm that had been scraped and cut.
Actually, it didn’t hurt. You don’t have to feel the pain with me.
It seemed the hand silently said this before clenching into a fist and then opening again.
The blood was still there but wiped away easily. The scraped palm, once revealed, was already healed as if nothing had happened.
Look. I told you I’m best suited to holding ‘weapons.’
The recovery amazed everyone into a stunned silence. After creating this effect, the hand’s owner spoke. Only then did the crowd begin to relax. Some murmurs of agreement followed. Later, someone came closer to inspect the hand more thoroughly.
When the check confirmed all was well, a wave of astonishment spread among the group. The game they had expected to play was disrupted by the surprise and distraction. The dolls continued playing their roles as soldiers holding swords and sturdy shields, protecting their bodies, while their commanding generals, after the battle, gathered around one figure, watching closely.
“…So, you’re really okay?”
“Yeah.”
The hand’s owner said proudly, then added,
“But it’s a secret.”
They made a shushing gesture. Others nodded and copied the motion. And then…
—So, basically, this thing got found out by others, right? Then, I was isolated and rejected? And after that, I was found and taken back to the Demon Realm?
A knock at the door pulled the Demon King out of his thoughts. As he snapped back from his half-dream, half-awake state, he realized he had been dreaming. Dreaming about something from a long, long time ago.
Though he had already forgotten most of those old events, upon waking, he used his mind to fill in the gaps and details of what might have come after, blaming the half-human squad he had just seen for stirring up the dream in the first place.
Knock knock, knock knock…
After completing that mental reconstruction, the Demon King rose from bed, disturbed by the persistent knocking.
Knock knock, knock knock, knock knock…
The knocking came in an endless rhythm from outside. After tidying himself, the Demon King walked over to the door and called out, “Who is it?”
The knocking stopped abruptly, and for a moment, silence blanketed both sides of the door. In that silence, inspiration struck the Demon King. He reached out and opened the door without hesitation, pulling inside the hesitant Hero standing there.
Not long ago, after striking the Hero with the full strength of a human attack, the Demon King quickly shut the door behind him. Before he could even cast a magic circle, the Hero spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
The Demon King blinked, confused. The Hero said again, “I forgot everything from these past few months. I’m sorry.”
…
The truth was probably this: Before the Demon King was dealt a direct bad ending, the Hero had talked with the mage, exposed the script, and believed the Demon King was slowly hiding himself away.
Then, quietly, the Hero had rescued Joshua from the castle. Due to some reason, the Hero had lost his memory and was being taken around to heal by Joshua.
“Doctor Eric said I’ve been amnesiac for a long time. I’ve been taking medicine for a long time. Is that true?” The Hero said they had found witnesses. “He said I always forgot I was sick and didn’t remember previous things. Every day felt like it was so long ago, every day was living a reality woven by you, every day you took care of me.”
The Demon King canceled the magic circle and sent the demon dragon away, hesitating, “…Hmm?”
“So, thank you. And I’m sorry.” The Hero gently pulled the Demon King closer and hugged him softly. “Even though I know now, I still can’t remember. I… don’t remember anything. I’m sorry.”
Hair brushed softly against the Demon King’s neck, breath warm on his shoulder. The Hero’s voice trembled with guilt and a bit of sorrow. The Demon King, staring at the Hero’s shoulder, said softly, “Hmm…”
He gave the Hero a little push, surprised by how this moment had unfolded. He had expected a grand showdown between the Hero and the Demon King, something epic. But with that thought, he pushed, and the Hero loosened his hold, then suddenly kissed the Demon King.
The Demon King, caught off guard, didn’t react immediately. Only after the Hero stepped back did he reach out to kiss back. Then, awkwardly, he looked away, glancing around the room.
After kissing, the Hero turned away, blushing, fleeing in a moment of impulse until hearing a voice that made him stop.
“Open your mouth.”
The Demon King grabbed a medicine bottle and, at that moment, said the command he had repeated many times before. The Hero obeyed and opened his mouth. One pill was tossed in. The Demon King explained simply, “Take the medicine.”
His words felt strange. Though it only lasted an instant, something felt off. It felt like a spark had caught fire on his lips, then burned into his heart, making his hand tremble with heat.
Then the pill was tossed off target. The Demon King stared dumbfounded at the wayward pill. The Hero, shy after being fed so awkwardly, came over to take the bottle himself.
“Hmm.” He took the bottle from the Demon King’s hand, fingers trembling, then sat back down, glancing several times between the Demon King and the bottle. The Demon King, diverting his gaze from the pill, smiled softly—a rare moment of good temper.
“Take the medicine. Don’t look at me.” His face flushed slightly but quickly recovered.
“Yes, take the medicine. Don’t look at me.” He tried to sound calm, as if nothing had happened.
Author’s note:
＿(:з」∠)＿
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