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The next day…

The Demon Lord sat motionless on her throne, her gaze lost in the distance. Throughout the day, the castle staff, so accustomed to Van’s daily disruptions, felt a large void in his absence. The halls, usually echoing with his energetic proclamations and the resulting commotions, now lay silent, amplifying a haunting emptiness that seemed to grip the very air.

As dusk cast long shadows through the ornate windows of the throne room, Varlog reentered, his footsteps resonating softly against the stone floor. He paused briefly, his eyes lingering on Van’s bouquet and ring placed ceremoniously beside the royal chair.

“My lord,” he began, his voice heavy laden with a mix of respect and sorrow, echoing slightly in the vast room.

“Well done, Varlog,” she replied mechanically, her fingers tapping nervously on the armrest of her throne, betraying her composed facade.

“I apologize… What may you be referring to, my lord?” Varlog asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. His concern deepened as he noted her anxiousness.

“Heh… Thanks to your efforts in fortifying our defenses, he couldn’t find a way to breach our walls today! You’ve proven your worth once more,” she declared, her voice carrying a tone of forced confidence and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Varlog, observing quietly, reflected a deep sorrow in his gaze.

“He WILL try again tomorrow… Perhaps we should lower our defenses? Heh, maybe he’s lost his edge,” she mused, her laughter ringing hollow in the vast throne room.
Varlog merely nodded, his expression solemn.

“I advise you to go and rest now, my lord. You haven’t slept since yesterday, have you?” he offered, his voice tinged with melancholy.

“What are you on about, VARLOG!!? WHAT IF HE BUSTS IN HERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!!? HE DID IT BEFORE, AFTER ALL… Aha… I got it! That bastard tries to catch me off guard when I’m asleep!! THAT’S why he didn’t come today!! I won’t sleep… I’ll stay awake tonight! You are relieved of your duties for today!!” she responded heartily, though Varlog could see the layers of denial in her forced cheerfulness.

“As you wish, my lord…”

The next day, whispers filled the castle.

“I miss Van… He really livened up the place,” one maid remarked to another.
“He was so kind…”
Their voices lingered in the air as the Demon Lord, stationed in the throne room, ordered her trusted advisor.

“Varlog! It seems our hero’s companion has indeed grown dull as a bat! Lower the castle’s defenses! It seems I have to whip him back into shape when he gets here tomorrow!! I’ll acknowledge it was thanks to him the quality of my servants had risen!” She then spent another day waiting, her eyes occasionally flickering to the door, half-expecting an interruption that never came.

THE DAY AFTER THAT…

“Hey, Dad, is big brother Van here today?” a young demonic child asked his father, a castle guard.

The guard sighed deeply. “No, son, I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“Why not?” the child’s voice wavered, a mix of curiosity and sadness.

“Does he dislike playing War with me?”

The guard crouched down, gently ruffling his son’s hair. “It’s not your fault, kiddo.”

“But why isn’t he coming back?”

Inside the throne room, the Demon Lord murmured to herself, gazing at the ring and bouquet she’d ordered preserved.

“Varlog,” she instructed quietly, “leave the doors loose tomorrow… It’s possible that our hero’s… that Van grew weaker, so he just couldn’t push them open anymore…”

Varlog merely lowered his gaze, clasping his palms together quietly.
“…Yes, my lord. I shall ensure Van has the easiest of access tomorrow.”

Yet, no matter how loosely the door to the throne room was adjusted, the armor-clad human did not come to open them the next day.

A Day Later..

“V-… Varlog…” Her voice was weak, quivering as it barely filled the cavernous space of the throne room.

“… Perhaps he got lost and forgot the way here…” she whispered to herself, the flicker of hope in her voice as fragile as a candle in the wind.

“Ensure… The way back to me is lighted up for him as brightly as possible, okay..?” Her words trailed off, cracking slightly at the edges, betraying the strain of her composed facade.

“…Yes, my lord.” Varlog responded, his voice carefully measured to not surpass the quiet despair of his queen, “The castle shall serve as a beacon of light. Van Hellix could not miss it even if he desired to!”

She offered a feeble smile, her eyes betraying nights devoid of sleep and a heart heavy with unshed tears.

“Thank you…”

The following day became a poignant chapter in the annals of demonic lore.
It was the day the demon lord’s castle radiated with such intensity that even distant humans might glimpse its glow. The throne room, more lavishly adorned than ever, seemed to beckon for Van’s return.

The Demon Lord sat on her throne, her presence flanked by maids and servants arranged as if to guide a wayward soul back home.

She waited,

But the brilliance of the castle, piercing the veil of night, made no difference.
Van did not find his way back to the castle that day.

“My lord,” Varlog approached with a softness in his step, his expression lined with worry as he observed her faltering composure.

She merely bowed her head.

“Leave me alone, the lot of you,” she commanded quietly. With heavy hearts, they all vacated the throne room, leaving her in solitude.

“It could be that… Van… Just got too shy… And cannot withstand so many people at once anymore… Right…?” She whispered to herself, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

Suddenly, the doors burst open. “DEMON LORRRRRRDDDD!!!!”

“V-VAN!!” Her heart leapt, and she sprang up, her eyes lighting up with joy at the sight of him charging in with a fresh bouquet and a ring.

“I HAVE COME TO MARRY YOU!! BE MY WIFE!!!”

“I’m sorry, my lord, he went past me again…” Varlog’s voice came apologetically from outside the throne room.

“D-DAMN YOU!! AFTER TWO YEARS… I SUPPOSE I SHOULD REWARD YOU FOR YOUR PERSISTENCE, HUH!!?” She shouted, her spirit rejuvenated by the excitement.

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE!! I AGREE!! You hear me!!? I DO-“

But the door was silent.

Van was not there.

Dawn was breaking.

Alicia remained seated on her throne, slowly realizing she had been shouting at an empty room.
As the crushing reality that it had all been a dream settled in, Varlog quietly entered the throne room.

With a heavy sigh, she lowered her head.

“Varlog…” She murmured softly.

“…Yes, my lord..?” He responded, his voice a gentle echo in the vast, empty space.

“… I hereby relieve you of your duties… You are free to roam the world as you wish…”

“But…” she began, hesitant.

“If you ever see Van…” Her voice broke, choked with a deep well of sorrow. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she struggled to stifle her sobs with her hand.

“…please, tell him I’m sorry… that I need to see him again…” She paused, her breath hitching as she gathered herself. “I will never again be in the embrace of anyone but him… and…”

She took a deep, steadying breath, her voice a fragile whisper laden with earnest longing, “…Tell him that I said yes… Can you do that for me, please?” Her plea hung in the air, a poignant echo of her profound regret and undying hope.

Varlog gave a warm, reassuring smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Yes, my lord. I will ensure Van Hellix hears your message,” he promised, before turning to leave the throne room and venturing out into the world beyond the demonic realm.

THE NEXT DAY…

“Varlog~!!!” Van called out joyfully as he burst through the doors, exchanging cheerful greetings with the maids and servants of the demonic castle.

“Today’s the day, I can just feel it! She’ll say yes!” Van proclaimed, his enthusiasm shining bright.

Varlog sighed, but with a smile this time as he continued his work on a scroll.

 
“That’s what you said last week… and the two weeks before that. Would you like something to eat before you propose to her majesty today?”

“Hmm… Not today. I’m still full from the game we shared yesterday with you and the rest of the castle’s staff,” Van replied cheerfully.

“That was indeed quite the feast… Her majesty’s servants and I thoroughly enjoyed it,” Varlog remarked.

“Speaking of which, did she eat it after she pierced my skull?” Van asked with a hint of concern.

“Her Majesty was quite hungry; it took her a bit to dispatch you that day… However, she did take a bite, said nothing, and then left. I believe she might have liked it,” Varlog offered, trying to add a positive note.

“Oh, I see. That’s good to hear. How’s the wife?” Van asked casually.

“She’s fine, fine… Actually, no, she’s still quite upset with you for missing our 583rd wedding anniversary two days ago. She even made that roast you praised so highly last year,” Varlog replied, his gaze stern.

“Ugh… Varlog, I told you, I was THIS close with Alicia! I nearly had her convinced!” Van exclaimed.

“It is ‘Her Majesty’ to you, Van Hellix. You do not have the privilege to address our Demon Lord so casually, no matter how passionate you are about making her yours,” Varlog cautioned.

“Aside from reminding you the relaxation teachings of Ace The Venturer, from my world; today, she will be known as ‘My Wife’, Varlog,” Van declared with unwavering confidence.

Varlog sighed deeply. “…I suppose Her Majesty will decide your penance for such insolent familiarity. As she always did, anyway…” he remarked resignedly.

“I see. Well, I’m heading in now,” Van said, walking past Varlog toward the throne room, his arms full of a meticulously selected bouquet and the usual ring.

“Ahh, quite the selection you’ve brought… Those are indeed her favorites! For such consideration, I shall warn; it’s been quite some time since she shared her tactics on how to deter you… Be on your guard,” Varlog warned.

“Don’t worry! I am resolute,” Van assured him, his voice filled with determination.

“I understand. But of course, you are. See you tomorrow, Van.”

“There won’t be a tomorrow! Today, I shall leave the throne room with her as my fiancée!” Van declared boldly.

“Of course, you will,” Varlog responded, his smile resigned yet tinged with a faint glimmer of hope, echoed silently by the other servants.

“He may be the hero’s companion, but he’s quite the character,” the maids whispered among themselves, chuckling softly.

“Yeah, Van’s cool. I enjoy sparring with him,” the guards mused, appreciating his indefatigable spirit.

“If they do marry, I sure won’t mind Van as the second ruler beside Her Majesty,” another demonic guard said.

“It may seem like he just barges in thoughtlessly every day, but when Varlog tells him that she’s too tired and wants to rest, he just helps us out in what stuff we need! He’s such a considerate soul!” Another maid commented.

They all silently wished him good luck as Van once again kicked open the door to the throne room, bouquet in hand, a shining ring in the other.

“DEMON LOOOORRRRRRRD!!! I AM HERE TO—”

Van’s bold declaration was abruptly cut short, the words dying in his throat as he was stopped cold by the sight before him.

The Demon Lord was entwined in the arms of another demon, passionately kissing him.

“Ahh… Van…” She purred, turning to him mid-embrace with a sneer.

“I didn’t see you there… This is my partner, Gorrock,” she introduced softly.

The shock and theatrics were designed to crush Van’s spirit finally.

She and the demon flaunted their closeness, a performance crafted meticulously for Van, who stood frozen, bouquet in hand.

Varlog watched, his heart aching for Van, as he thought, ‘My lord… That’s a bit much… Especially considering… Oh, right; he never told her about that…’

The maids whispered among themselves, “How terrible…!”

‘This will surely make him give up,’ the Demon Lord thought smugly, watching Van’s reaction.

‘But… this servant is overstepping his boundaries just now… That was too much for a make-believe kiss,’ she mused in annoyance, glancing briefly at Gorrock, who was a little too enthusiastic in his role.

‘Well, he bet his life on it. So, when Van comes back tomorrow, I’ll definitely sentence this Gorrock to 100,000 public whippings—’

Her line of thought was cut short as Van let the bouquet and the ring clatter to the floor, the sound echoing in the throne room; drawing gasps and looks of sorrow and worry from the servants in the other room as they looked at Van.

Even Varlog, who had somewhat expected Van to withstand the Demon Lord’s blatant provocation with his characteristic resilience, felt a heavy sense of foreboding when he heard the resonant clatter.

“Congratulations, Alicia. You won.” Van muttered quietly, his voice barely audible as he turned and walked away, leaving the throne room and all its intrigues behind.

‘Eh…?’ The Demon Lord stared in shock as Van calmly exited the throne room.

His voice wasn’t booming that time.

No valor found its way out of his mouth as he said those words, nor any of the enthusiasm The Demon Lord was so used to hear after every attempt of his.

It was so sudden, in fact, that Alicia could barely process it.

The maids covered their mouths, their eyes wide open in disbelief and their hearts aching for the spurned suitor.

‘Did he just leave…?’ she wondered, still reeling.

“H-hey, Van…? It… It’s okay..! It’s just another scheme, you know that; right?” the guards called softly after him.

“See you, Almund, Vurgot. Send my regards to your children for me,” Van replied, his voice subdued as he walked away.

‘My… That sight seems to have struck harder than any hit he had endured so far,’ Varlog thought, watching Van approach the castle exit.

Rushing forward, Varlog placed a gentle hand on Van’s shoulder, halting him just before he could leave the castle’s confines. His voice was low and heavy with concern, “Want me to kill you quickly, Van?”

“No… I’d just respawn here. Since it’s become a safe place for me. It started happening for a while now… Sorry for not telling you,” Van said as he walked out after gently removing Varlog’s hand from his shoulder, leaving the castle and its residents behind. The guards, maids, and servants all looked on with worry and sorrow as the news traveled to their ears.

“Ha… Haha!!! We did it!! I finally drove him away today without him PROPOSING!!!” The Demon Lord declared with reluctant joy as Van left the castle.

“My lord…” Varlog murmured as he re-entered the throne room, catching a glimpse of Gorrock’s smug victory grin as he lounged behind Alicia.

‘Ahh.. The new servant, is it…? I do recall him commenting of Her Majesty’s allure in an unsightly manner when he thought he wasn’t seen by any of the servants with his so-called friends… I suppose it was he who planted this vile idea into Her Majesty’s mind. I shall deal with him later,’ Varlog thought as he recalled Gorrock making crude jokes about his queen with his friends, boasting about how he will “Make her scream his name” soon.

… It was then that Varlog internally resolved to fulfill at least half of what Gorrock boasted about…

Yet Varlog kept his cool, maintaining his composure as he marched.

He then turned to Van’s dropped items, carefully and gently picking up the discarded bouquet and ring.

“My lord… Did you… really wish to hurt him that much if it meant such a victory..?” he asked quietly, holding the symbols of Van’s affection.

“O-… Of course, I wished so! He is a companion of that damned Hero!!” She retorted defiantly as she swiftly rose from Gorrock’s embrace.

“I see… Well, it appears like he will not be coming back anymore. Thus… I suppose I should grant you my congratulations. Your wisdom and cunning truly exceed all,” Varlog said, his tone tinged with melancholy.

“W-what are you on about, Varlog!?” she stammered, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“This man has been crashing into my castle every day! He’s disrupted my peace for over TWO YEARS! Surely that’s not enough to deter him!” she exclaimed defiantly.

“I understand, my lord,” Varlog replied with a sigh as he turned to leave the throne room.

“Wait,” she commanded, stopping him in his tracks.

“Place the bouquet in a vase next to my throne and put the ring beside it,” she instructed, her cheeks coloring slightly. “That idiot actually forgot those here… How could he propose without them?”

Varlog looked back at her with a sympathetic gaze. “As you wish, my lord.”
The demon who served as her make-believe partner then rose from the throne with a smug smile. 

“My lord, since I have driven him away, shall I be here tomorrow as well—”

“NO,” she cut him off sharply, her gaze icy.

“The same trick won’t work on Van twice. So don’t you dare step into this castle again, or let yourself be seen by either me or Van. It simply won’t work a second time,” she declared coolly, though her eyes bore the cold, piercing intensity of the abyss. 

“Better leave THIS instant, in case Van changes his mind and comes back today.” She commanded.

“Y-..yes, my lord,” Gorrock murmured, his voice subdued as he exited the castle walls, the weight of the Demon Lord’s stern gaze pressing down on him like a physical force.

Later, under the cloak of night within the demonic village, Varlog found Gorrock walking in a dark alley outside the demonic castle. Without hesitation or orders from the Demon Lord, Varlog unleashed his fury, methodically dismantling Gorrock limb by limb.

“Why—why are you doing this?!” Gorrock cried out, his voice trembling with fear and pain after losing both his legs. “It—it was Her Majesty who agreed to it!”

Varlog’s face remained impassive, but his eyes blazed with a cold, relentless anger. “Yes, that much is true,” he acknowledged quietly, his tone deceptively calm as Gorrock momentarily relaxed.

But the respite was short-lived. Varlog advanced, his presence overwhelming as he towered over the limbless Gorrock.

“However, it was you who preyed on Her Majesty’s vulnerabilities, exploiting her rather infantile experience with romance to satisfy your own selfish, treacherous desires. For trampling upon Her Majesty’s chance at true happiness and for manipulating her pure intentions for your contemptible gains, you shall suffer GREATLY.”

Gorrock’s eyes widened in terror, his voice cracking as he pleaded, “P-please, I—I understand now! I’ll crawl to the castle, I’ll—I’ll apologize personally to Her Majesty! Just—just let me do that, please!”

Varlog scoffed, his voice icy as he dismissed Gorrock’s pleas. “Allow you to see Her Majesty again, in her now delicate state? Provide you with another opportunity to weave your vile web around her? Absolutely not,” he hissed, his calm demeanor cracking as his true demonic voice began to emerge, shadows twisting around him menacingly.

“You will endure the torment you deserve. I will take my time, making certain you WILL SUFFER for tearing at Her Majesty’s heart for the dismal chance you never had at claiming it for yourself,” Varlog continued, his voice now a demonic growl, as he spoke in ancient demonic tongue, 

“You shall be broken and tormented for my personal satisfaction, until the embers of the underworld embrace you. Perhaps then, in the flames of the Archdevil, you might learn our true ways and be reborn. Although, for one as morally bankrupt as you, such redemption seems a forlorn hope.”

As he spoke, Varlog began his grim task, his every move calculated to inflict maximum pain upon the demon who had dared tear his queen’s heart.

Several hours later, Varlog stood over the mangled, lifeless form of Gorrock. His expression was one of unmasked disgust as he looked down at Gorrock. A sense of satisfaction whirling about within him as he looked at Gorrock’s ripped-apart corpse.

“O you who saw nothing beyond your own selfish desires,” Varlog intoned gravely in the ancient demonic tongue, bestowing a curse upon Gorrock, “be sent now to the Archdevil. There, may you burn and relearn our ways through the endless embers below, suffering through each agonizing cycle for all eternity.”

His words, a dark prayer, echoed through the empty alley, promising a fate considered the worst possible torment for a demon. With a final glance at the body that bore witness to his wrath, Varlog turned and walked away, leaving the shadows to swallow the remnants of Gorrock’s treachery.

Varlog spent the entire night relentlessly hunting down each of Gorrock’s acquaintances, meting out the same grim fate to each. Their bodies were subsequently delivered to their families, serving as a stark warning.

It was a cruel act, indeed. Perhaps some of Gorrock’s friends did not deserve such punishment.

However, despite the inherently violent nature of demons, they are expected to uphold honesty and loyalty—two traits that Gorrock and his accomplices abandoned in their actions.

But beyond that…

… Varlog’s fury was simply unmatched.

“Ah… It seems I have lost my composure momentarily,” Varlog mused to himself as he strolled calmly back to the castle.

“Oh, Ace The Venturer of Van’s world, I seem to have momentarily forgot your teachings of tranquility… It is at times like these I am grateful that you cannot bear witness of this unsightly side of mine,”

“…No matter. It appears nothing of value was lost in my fit of rage,” he concluded, dismissing the night’s events with cold detachment.

A LOT, AND A LOT OF ATTEMPTS LATER…

“DEMON LORD!!!” Van burst through the castle doors, his enthusiasm undiminished despite the countless rejections.

“Ah, Van Hellix! How are you doing today?” Varlog called out, after Van’s voice echoed in the grand hall as the servants momentarily paused their tasks to glance at Van before resuming their work with a collective sigh.

“Great. Tell your wife I liked the roast!” He muttered hurriedly as he waltzed past him.

“Oh, I shall. Good luck today as well,” Varlog offered as Van once again burst into the throne room…

…And was killed again after being refused.

Van had become a daily fixture at the castle, and each day the Demon Lord devised new and creative ways to dispatch him, since no single method worked on him twice.

Since his passive skill, Untrusted, had no effect on them, as he initially figured out after several attempts, the demonic realm became a safe place where he would respawn whenever killed by the Demon Lord.

Between Van’s enthusiastic and stubborn proposal attempts, the demons began taking a liking to him. After conversations he had with them, he had come to know most of the demons in the castle and the surrounding villages personally. He then realized – the demons he had fought against were simply soldiers defending their homes and looking for resources. The demonic realm was a nation, just like the human one – trying to survive and thrive. In these times of relative peace, both the Demon Lord and her subjects came to realize Van had no ulterior motive. He simply, truly, only wanted to marry the Demon Lord.

In between, Varlog used Van’s ever-growing prowess to help him with his tasks. Reports of his assistance would reach the Demon Lord’s ear.

Impressed, after a while, she relented and asked why he was trying so hard to marry her, if not for political influence.

Van was truthful. He told her of his friend’s unfair skills and of his own passive skills – Dark Soul, and Untrusted.

And of his now 15-year crusade to find a wife throughout the world, eventually leading him to the demonic realm and the demon lord’s castle.

…However, he omitted the part where he was cheated on by Amoria, and that truth was left in the shadows.

With a brief look of pity and understanding, she offered then to wed him with a different woman from the demonic realm, a maid who she heard was actually willing to marry him. He refused, saying he had enough setting his mind on something and not following through with it.
He added, “Besides, you will live the longest among all demons, so you’re the best. You’re also the cutest so it’s not a matter for debate,”

Her counter-argument (with a blush): “So, in the end, I’m just an immortal doll for you to fancy and I am supposed to amuse you until you croak of old age!!!? ME, THE DEMON LORD!!?” She raged as she vaporized Van with her flames, before he could say that he would be the one to outlive her.

From then on, her ruthless attempts at stopping him only increased.

But so did Van’s vigor and valor.
He showered her with gifts, and thoughtful gestures. She would end up laughing heartily from his recklessness; a sight Varlog claims to not see for dozens of years.

Their fights only grew longer, as Van would learn, have his stats grow, and adapt to her move set… Never attacking back, only dodging and blocking. She too had benefitted from his presence, growing stronger and sharper as they fought.

Eventually, they grew a habit of talking about each other’s day while fighting. Hobbies, things they like, things they hate… The weather, and how Van felt he was imposing, so he wanted to help Varlog by doing errands that ended up contributing to the demons.

But one time, they had gotten a bit closer… Yesterday, in fact. Two years after Van’s first breach.
The Demon Lord tripped from fatigue, and Van caught her.

“Alicia, my dear future wife… You are not yourself today. Usually, I’d be dead within a minute…”

“Haah… You think running a kingdom does not take some sort of toll on me, you imbecile? Besides… I told you…” She huffed, “To call me the Demon Lord…”
Van then removed his helmet, revealing his face.

“Since I have you in such a rare moment of weakness… I shall use this opportunity and show you this once more. I hope this face suits your fancy, today, Demon Lord. I worked quite hard on it before I came here.” Van muttered.

“…” She looked away with a blush, “Dummb..ass… It’s not bad, or anything… It’s not like I care anyway… A day will come where I will make you stop coming here with this foolish proposal..!! You’ll see…!” She muttered bashfully while still looking away.

“Well, even with your strength, you can’t. I’ll just adapt, since nothing works on me twice. So just hurry up and say yes already, you cute little demoness,” He muttered casually.

Her blush only deepened, as she once more placed her finger gently on his nose while looking away…

She kept it there for a while, feeling a “yes” climbing up from her throat. But just as it did, she extended her fingernail, piercing his skull.

‘… Is it… Really alright for me…? To try and be happy again..?’ She thought to herself as she reached her hands out to gently catch Van as he fell.

His body dropped lifeless to her embrace as he died and faded away once more, while she remained by her lonesome…

‘I… I just… I don’t know anymore.’

Just then, a demonic servant had entered the throne room.

“My lord…?” He muttered as he stood straight and tall, his hands folded behind his back.

She sighed with a blush, “What is it, Gorrock?”

“If you may, I have an idea to make him stop coming for good… I bet my life on it,” He said confidently.

“…I’m listening…” She looked at him curiously.

THE NEXT DAY

“DEMON LORD, I’VE COME TO TAKE YOUR HAND!” Van bellowed, brimming with valor as he burst into the throne room.

In his mind, his thoughts raged: ‘YOU THINK I’D GIVE UP AFTER YOU KILLED ME ONCE, OH MY UNSWAYABLE, PURELY DEMONIC, NON-HUMAN WIFE THAT’S IMMUNE TO MAGUS’S PASSIVES!!?’ His entire being was defined by a mix of depravity and desperation.

Sighing with irritation, the Demon Lord snapped, her fangs on display, “I’m really getting tired of this… These pranks!!!” She bellowed.

“And it’s ‘TAKE YOUR HEAD!!’, not hand, you immature brats!!!” she corrected fiercely, her voice reverberating off the stone walls as she charged at him with blistering speed.
But this time, Van was ready.

He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding her lethal strike.

‘He dodged it? These brats are learning. Impressive… but still annoying!’ she thought, frustration bubbling inside her.

“DEMON LORD, I DID NOT MISPRONOUNCE THAT!! I HAVE COME TO TAKE YOUR HAND!!” Van insisted, kneeling and revealing a gleaming ring inside a small box.

“That damned Varlog… I thought he disciplined those brats… FOR THESE ILLUSIONS!!” she exclaimed, a blush spreading across her cheeks as her tail lashed out, piercing Van’s heart as he knelt.

Van’s figure shimmered and then faded, leaving behind only his echoing words and the abandoned ring on the cold stone floor, before it also dissipated.

“Haah… That’s it. This is the second time I was interrupted, tormented by this prank showing me that brat from the hero’s party… He wasn’t that strong, but his audacity was notable, as much as I despise him and that cursed hero..!!” She fumed.

“VARLOG!! FIND THESE RUFFIANS..!!!” She bellowed to her advisor outside the throne room.

THE NEXT, NEXT DAY

“DEMON LORD!!!! I’VE COME TO TAKE YOU AS MINE!!! BEAR THIS RING AND MY CHILDREN!!!” Van roared as he burst through the doors during a strategic meeting with twelve demonic generals and their queen herself.

In his mind, a storm of thoughts raged: ‘I’VE BEEN TOO LONG AND TOO MUCH TOO SHY TO SHOW MY FEELINGS TO A WOMAN IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE. TO HELL WITH THOSE ASSHATS!!! I AM GOING TO MARRY THE DEMON LORD AND MAKE HER THE MOTHER OF MY CHILDREN, EVEN IF THAT’S THE LAST THING I DO!!! YOU WANNA WATCH!? FINE, I’LL PREPARE THE CUCK CHAIR FOR YOU, ASSHOLES!!! 14 YEARS IS TOO LONG!!!!’

The Demon Lord’s face flushed crimson, her mouth agape in shock as she stared at Van. The generals, a mix of confusion and amusement on their faces, exchanged glances.

“Oh… Isn’t that one of the hero’s party members…?”

“Ahh… I recognize him. He always wore this armor… Our Demon Lord’s allure is still potent… It even affects our enemies,” some murmured, chuckling among themselves.

“YOU DAMNED KIDS!!!! ENOUGH WITH THESE DAMN TRICKS!!!” she roared, unleashing a massive laser that pierced Van’s stomach and shattered the meeting table, leaving the generals in shock. Van collapsed and quickly dissipated into nothing.

“Ha… Haa… That’s IT!!! SEAL THE ENTIRE CASTLE WITH MAGIC UNTIL WE CATCH WHOEVER IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THESE PRANKS!!! I WANT THEM TO RECEIVE 10,000 LASHES IN PUBLIC!!!!!!” she screamed, her fury sending shivers down the spines of the demonic generals.

The next, NEXT, NEXT DAY

“DEMON LOOOOOOOOOORDDDDD, I WISH TO BE YOUR HUSBAND!!! YOUR LOVING, LOVING HUSBAND!!!” Van’s voice echoed as he kicked through the door, startling the Demon Lord during her breakfast with her advisor.

Both spat out their food in shock.

“WHAT!!!? BUT… NO ONE CAN USE MAGIC IN THE CASTLE!!! The runes we placed are so strong that even I can’t use my own magic!!! WHO IS DOING THIS ILLUSION!!?” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with anxiety as she turned to Varlog.

“I… I haven’t the slightest idea, my lord!!” Varlog replied, his voice filled with anxiety.

“Haah…” She stood up, her expression a mix of anger and bafflement as she looked at the kneeling, armored figure.

“You…” she muttered, approaching him as he held out an open ring box.

“I don’t know what you want, why you’re here, or why you’re doing this,” she said slowly, her voice low.

“But I’ll humor you. Assuming you’re actually that weakling Van Hellix from the Hero party, why would I marry you?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in a mix of confusion and curiosity.

“AHHHH!!!! I’LL TELL YOU…!!!” He began.

“Sure. I’m waiting,” she replied calmly.

“Uh…” Van stuttered, clearly caught off guard.

‘Hmph. I knew it. When it comes down to it, he lacks the guts to—’

“So, you’re taken, then?” he asked from within his helmet, looking up at her.

She blushed deeply. “N-NO!! It’s not even a matter of—”

“Oh, thank goodness. Then, there’s no reason for you to decline, huh? Just tell that advisor to prepare the wedding ceremony, we’re wasting daylight. We still have our wedding night, too, so hurry up already,” Van said casually.

“Such insolence…!!” Varlog muttered under his breath.

“Csche… Y-you… YOU…!!! YOU DAMN…!!! B-BASTARD…!!” Her blush deepened, and she then extended a finger and gently touched his helmet while looking away.

“Ahh!! You want me to put it on your finger then—” he started enthusiastically, but swiftly, she extended her sharp claw and pierced Van’s head clean through the gap.

Once again, his body dissipated into nothingness, leaving only confusion and a lingering tension in the air.

I went to an empty field and laid down on the grass. For the first time in a while, I didn’t need to follow or lead anyone. No destination, no obligations. I have some money, so I could live good enough. I have eternal life, so there’s that as well. Maybe I’ll invest? Is that even a thing in this world?

In a whirl of frustration and confusion, I got back up on my feet and paced back and forth in the open field, thinking about the future.

“Maybe marry…?” I mused, but then a stark realization hit me with bizarre clarity—the truth was undeniable.

Any woman from our species was susceptible to his charm, all thanks to those blasted passives. There seemed to be no loophole, no workaround that wouldn’t end with him inadvertently stealing away anyone I dared to care about. Whether he meant it or not.

“AAAAAHHH, I’M SO JEALOUS…!!! IF WE WEREN’T BEST BUDS, I’D HAVE KILLED THIS GUY…!!!” I screamed into my helmet, my own voice echoing back at me in a hollow ring.

It felt really freeing, in a way. I never really had a chance to properly vent my frustrations after we left the Capital to fight the Demon Lord, considering we were always together.

… but that hardly solved my problem.

“AAHHH, THERE HAS TO BE SOMEONE!!” I racked my brain.

A mage with mind protection? No, his passives would trump that.

A warrior with mental fortitude? Nope, he’d already charmed one of those. Literally Marcilla, our party’s vanguard.

Even our enemies weren’t immune; he’d seduced Marley, the underground dealer who prized loyalty above all else, just to extract information.

Consider going homo? I shuddered at the thought—it wasn’t for me. I even considered it in desperation from back when I was his party member, but no, that path held no appeal.

“Is there no one immune to his influence? Maybe get a willing/slave twink and a transformation potion?” I mused half-heartedly, then grimaced.

“Nah, too weird… Even for me. Plus, what if the potion expired? We’d end up on awkward runs to the alchemist. Yuck.”

“AAAAHH, SO UNFAIR!!!!” 

“Any girl of our species will want to be all over him no matter what!!” I screamed.

I paused, as a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

“Any girl… from our species…” I gulped.

“Any girl… From… OUR… Species…” A manic grin spread across my face.

“I GOT IT…!!!!”

A LONG, LONG, LONG, LONG, LONG WHILE LATER….

Back at the demon lord’s castle, the atmosphere was heavy with defeat and frustration. “My Lord, the army’s complaints only rise… They demand bloodshed, and their hunger grows,” the advisor reported, his voice tense.

“Tsk,” the demon lord clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“No helping it. Redirect funds from castle maintenance to provisions and arrange combative matches to sate their bloodlust.”

“My lord… Our forces will dwindle if we indulge their thirst for violence…! Surely there’s something else we can do…”

“There’s nothing to be done about it… I’ve already been bested by those damned heroes in a fair Demonic Duel against that Goddess-touched hero and his party all those years ago, so we cannot invade their territory and get more resources to sustain ourselves… AHHH!!! THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!! I WISH I COULD VENT MY FRUSTRATION ON ANYONE FROM HIS PARTY—”

Suddenly, the massive doors to the throne room burst open.

“DEMON LORRRDDD!!!!” A voice echoed thunderously as Van rushed into the throne room, still clad in his signature armor and helmet.

‘ORCS… ELVES… DWARVES, DRAGONKIN, MERMAIDS, DRUIDS, HARPIES, FOXGIRLS, WOLFGIRLS, CATGIRLS, LIZARD GIRLS, DARK ELVES… I LOOKED THROUGH FUCKING ALL OF THEM!!!! I WENT THROUGH THEM ALL. AND WHAT DID I FIND…!? THEY’RE ALL SLIGHTLY RELATED TO HUMANS!!! DEMONS ARE THE ONLY RACE THAT ARE PURE… ONLY PURE BLOODS… ONLY PURE BLOODS…!! AND WHO IS PURER THAN THE DAMN DEMON LORD!!!? HOW DIDN’T I FUCKING SEE THIS SOONER WHEN THAT BASTARD BAGGED THAT DAMN ELF BEASTMASTER ALL THOSE YEARS AGO!!?’ Van thought, his mind a mess after searching for a wife for over 14 years throughout the world, discovering that his Passive Skill: Untrusted affects them all, minus the demons.

Throughout his time scouring the countless tribes and proposing to any woman he found attractive, he was accused of countless acts of disrespect and harassment. He had died so many times from public executions and enemies much more powerful than himself; his skin, his bones, his muscles, and blood vessels had become denser, more flexible, and more resilient than the very armor he donned. At this point, Van was a level 44, with level 300 resistance/vigor/strength stats.

“An intruder…!?” the advisor exclaimed in shock. The demon lord looked up, her gaze sharpening as she recognized the armor-clad figure approaching. It was Van Hellix from the hero’s party, confidently striding in, armored and determined.

“V-Van Hellix!! After all this time!?” the advisor cried out in disbelief.

In his mind, Van’s thoughts roared: ‘I DON’T CARE IF I BECOME PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER 1!!! I DON’T CARE IF I’M THE CATALYST TO THE SECOND GREAT WAR!!! I DON’T CARE IF I HAVE TO CONVERT TO SATANISM IF THAT’S A THING IN THIS DAMNED CASTLE…!!! I’M GOING TO MARRY THE PURE-BLOODED DEMON LORD AND HAVE HER BEAR MY CHILDREN… I’M GOING TO LOSE MY ACCURSED VIRGINITY TO THE DEMON LORD NO MATTER WHAT!!!!!’ His eyes blazed with desperation and determination.

“YOU!!! IT WAS NOT ENOUGH THAT YOU REDUCED US TO THIS, NOW YOU SEEK TO TRAMPLE OUR PRIDE FURTHER!!!? COME DIE, WEAKLING!!! YOU NO LONGER HAVE THE DIVINE PROTECTION FROM THE ACTUAL HERO!!!” The demon lord shrieked, her wings unfurling as she charged at Van, black blade poised to strike.

…Who unexpectedly knelt.

“MARRY ME—” he blurted out just before she cleaved his head from his shoulders.

“Ah..?” She paused, dumbfounded, staring at the rolling head and the collapsing body that turned to dust, revealing a fading ring.

“W-what… Did he just say…?” she muttered, turning to her advisor in confusion.

“It… He must have been delirious, trembling before your might…”

“I see… B-but… there was a ring… And now his body… What is this..?” She scanned the dispersing dust, her brow furrowed.

The advisor, equally speechless for a moment, then chuckled nervously. “Ah… Aha…!! It must have been a prank by the younger ones…”

“You think so…?” She muttered, scratching her head in confusion.

“It must be, my lord! Is it plausible that a hero’s companion came here to propose to their arch-nemesis?!” He tried to lighten the mood.

“Do not patronize me, Varlog,” she warned sharply.

“Apologies… It just doesn’t make sense otherwise! I shall reprimand these youngsters immediately,” he said, hastily exiting the room to manage the peculiar aftermath.

Eventually, Amoria joined them without me being told about it until a while later; despite her initial assertions to me.

Her behavior started to be all over the place, and that she sometimes couldn’t meet my eye – around after 3 months into our relationship. My feelings worsen when even Mika and Rika, the two soulless master assassins looked at me with pity, and then my red light was just constantly activated.

But… I liked her—both her personality and the way she treated me—so I didn’t want to make things worse by admitting I knew what was really going on. I didn’t want to see her sad, and maybe part of me wanted to keep pretending we were a loving couple. I didn’t hate being close to her. In fact, she was one of the few people who looked at me like I really mattered.

Well, her and Magus. Over time, I noticed the way he’d give me these understanding stares, paired with a somber smile that seemed to say he got what I was going through. It was comforting, in a way—though, if I’m being honest, a little unsettling too.

I suppose somewhere, I hoped I was just being paranoid, and that Magus was right about the whole true love thing, so I just went along with her odd behavior and tried my best to ignore everyone’s pitying glances.

After we subdued the demon lord, Amoria confessed her true feelings anew. I was taken aback, sure, because I liked her company, but… It was just bound to happen at some point, just as I felt, so I responded to her casually just now.

‘So why are you crying over it?’ I pondered as she wept through her confession while the others waited nearby.

“W-what…?” she stammered, looking up confused.

“I said, I’m happy for you. He’s a strong and kind dude. Kinda wish you’d have told me sooner, but other than that, have fun,” I replied nonchalantly.

I did actually want to tell her she was brainwashed.

I wanted to scream it, really.
But the most likely thing that will happen is her only acting like she cares about any of that before getting even more affectionate toward him.

I knew that no matter how much I cried or screamed and kicked, her feelings couldn’t be changed.

Actually, I carved the reason for it in my mind:

Passive: Godly Charm

Description: You will charm any girl of your species simply by existing. More charming than any male nearby.

It means, as long as he’s alive… I can never have her. And he had the Goddess’s approval for it.

Literally, the mightiest being in the entire realm is Magus’s sponsor, while all I had were empty words about true love.

Crying about it wouldn’t change it, so I spoke flatly when she revealed her truth.

Her eyes widened in disbelief to my words, and soon after, she turned and ran away, crying into her hands.

… It is what it is, right?

“Dude… Amoria came running to me, crying… Wanna talk about it?” he asked, sitting me down a bit later.

“How about a big dose of ‘I fucking told you so’,” I shrugged, still processing everything yet feeling an odd sense of inevitability about how it all unfolded.

“S-sorry… Really, I am. I didn’t plan for this, but after Milina died… I was sad… I went somewhere private,” he explained calmly, his tone lower than usual.

“She just… found me. And the passive- I-I guess it, no, I’M SURE THE PASSIVE just took over from there. I’m… Sorry.” He murmured as his voice turned raspy, a singular tear shed down his cheek.

I did want to chastise him a bit more. Well, a LOT more, considering how strongly I felt about Amoria. But seeing him crying, I couldn’t help but think that he had no reason whatsoever to do this intentionally.

It wasn’t like he needed more women-he had enough adoration to last lifetimes.

And consdiering everything we’ve been through; he wouldn’t hurt me if he had any control over it… Unless he had a cuckold fetish I didn’t catch, but I seriously doubt that.

“Though you could have spared me the drama by telling me when you first got together with her, instead of keeping it a secret and forcing all your girlfriends to keep quiet too. Their pitying glances really stung after a while, and then it was painfully obvious that Amoria was also involved with you. I just played along until she was ready to come clean. The poor thing swallowed her puke whenever she forced herself to be near me, actually felt sorry for her.” And here I am, playing it off like I wasn’t in denial.

“And It’s not like I wouldn’t have understood if you’d just told me it happened, anyway.”

Magus bit his lip with a frown as he heard Van’s nonchalant tone.

“H-hey, don’t say it like that… You were so happy with her, man… And she REALLY didn’t hate you! But.. I just couldn’t tell you…” he stammered, wiping his eyes.

“And I’m really serious about Amoria… She didn’t… ‘swallow her puke’ whenever she was with you, she was… happy around you. Not one of us… Did that. I thought if she’s also happy with you, maybe it’s best not to spill the beans… at least not until after we beat the demon lord and you went your separate way with Amoria… I would have somehow convinced her to leave the party with you afterwards,”

I arched an eyebrow beneath my helmet. Did he not realize how much worse that sounded?

“I wonder how you’d talk if you were in my shoes, dumbass… You actually think sneaking around behind my back was a good idea?!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry…” His voice was heavy as he lowered his gaze. “To be honest, I really thought Amoria wasn’t affected by my skills because of true love or something… Then she approached me afterward, and I panicked, thinking you’d flip out.” He argued weakly.

I scrutinized his slouched form and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him in a way.

“Dude… I saw it coming a mile away. It only hurts because you’re telling me about it just now.”

A heavy silence hung between us for a moment.

“So… what are you going to do now?” he asked quietly.

“Travel away from you,” I muttered calmly, exhaling a resigned sigh.

Normally, he’d try to talk me out of such dramatic decisions.

This time, he remained silent. There was nothing more to be said. We beat the demon lord after all, so we were free to do as we liked.

And so, what I would like to do, at this moment, is to just be alone for a bit.

“Where are you going…?” He murmured. Even though he just cried like a baby in a situation where that was my part to play, he was about to do it again.

I felt compelled to lighten the mood, as if I was also under some sort of brainwashing.

“As if I’ll tell you, gangster fuckboy,” I retorted with a smirk.

“Heh, bitch ass virgin,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sad sort of smirk.

That was our thing. We’d always swear at each other back in the other world, and it always meant good things.

Despite everything…

… It was nice… to do it one last time before saying goodbye to that harem bastard.

We both laughed.

“Well, see you later, I guess. Don’t be a stranger and visit if you can,” he said as he stood, his expression tinged with melancholy.

It is the first time I ever saw him make a face like that. The face of someone who grieves over a living being. I saw him grieving before, but this was different.

“If you need help, or if a new boss revives or something…” I began. It’s like I feel guilty for leaving, even though there’s nothing I should feel guilty about.

“…I’ll wait for you. I need a meatshield, after all,” he replied, his smirk returning.

“Screw you, fuckboy,” I shot back as he walked away.

The rest of our party watched me, their faces a mix of sadness and smiles… These fellas don’t have to pretend they would actually miss me…. It’s not like I don’t know how attached they are to him. Well, it’s touching in its own way, I suppose. I also stood up and walked away from the table.

“I know it doesn’t help at all, but…” Magus said just before we parted ways.

“…She always talked about you. Amoria, I mean.” He muttered, his words travelling lightly as a breeze brushed the two of us.

“…While riding you,” I added casually.

He lowered his head again, sighing in resignation.

“You’re right. It really didn’t help,” he admitted, his smile tinged with awkwardness.

“Again, I’m… really, really sorry… So, say hi whenever you can, alright? The lot of us will probably settle down here in the capital, buy a house, and live our lives… Maybe start a family, haha…” he added before returning to the party without me.

“Also… You can remove the helmet now, you know? Considering we won’t meet for a while,” he added.

I was surprised.

I hadn’t realized he noticed I’d been keeping my helmet on to feel more comfortable around him and his girlfriends… I guess he paid more attention to me than I gave him credit for.

I merely turned to him, “…Right… Guess I got used to it,” I said as I turned back and left the royal capital, while he returned to his party.

His tone was really heavy just now… I can get that he was sad about not telling me he cucked my ass, but what was that all about? He has a harem filled with beautiful girls that would kill to be with him. He won’t have a single lonely night for the rest of his life, or afterlife, probably. Thanks to our dear Goddess.

Literally, the entire world is his bedroom, and he stands as the strongest there is. What’s he so upset about? Besides, it ain’t like we’re saying goodbye forever…Well, probably.

He’s going to get over it and forget about today in no time as he munches on his harem.

Magus wasn’t one to waste his abilities, despite their… Less than morally superior nature. So he scored with all of our companions whenever we had the slightest free time.

I was frustrated but eventually accepted it. Least I could do as thanks for taking me along and freeing me.

I pretty much resigned myself to never get laid as long as I’m with this guy. Easier said than done, but it was what it was. I promised to myself never make the same mistake twice after being tortured, which included taking my situation for granted.

But still; after spending so much time in a party where beauties fawned over my best friend, it became hard not to stare.

Most of the time when we were together, they acted almost as if I were invisible, pampering him, cuddling, feeding, cleaning, and even bathing with him. I tried to be happy for him despite it all, but every day was a struggle to show even the slightest bit of support.

That’s when I started wearing my helmet all the time. It made me feel more comfortable, not having to worry about where my gaze might wander, and who catches it.

One time, one of the girls, feeling sorry for me, invited me to join them. Considering they were mind-controlled to favor him, I was flattered.

However, she quickly regretted it—as did the rest of the group—when they realized what that entailed.

Including me could disrupt their dynamic, especially since it might mean less attention for their darling Magus. Worse still, for me at least, there was the potential for accidental physical contact between me and my best friend. Oddly enough, that didn’t seem to bother him when I brought it up. Back in our world, he would have screamed, “Ew, how gay!” at the mere suggestion. It was as if he was almost open to the idea this time… I wouldn’t call his current behavior gay, but it really is unlike him. He almost invited me himself.

That aside, despite that girl’s initial reluctance, her pity for my solitary state pushed her to insist. If you think about it, me and Magus touching while surrounded by girls wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

But I still refused, much to Magus’s surprise.

Why?

It wasn’t about avoiding physical contact with my best friend during an orgy, or trying to act morally superior by not messing around with enchanted women. What I truly despised was being pitied. More than that, I didn’t want my first experience to come from sympathy. Call me old-fashioned, but I was holding out for something real.

Deep down, I wanted someone to choose me because they genuinely wanted me—not out of obligation or mind control. That desire only grew stronger the more I watched him and his party interact.

The awkwardness that followed was tangible and mutual. I opted to retreat to a quiet place while they continued without me, without voicing any complaints.

It was 4 years into the journey that I saved Amoria, a healing-based magician; a priestess, from a death trap, and she gratefully joined our party. That marked 7 years since me and Magus got transmigrated.

She openly criticized the harem dynamics and preferred monogamous relationships. Things took a significant turn when she confessed her feelings for me.

Then again, thinking back – all the girls did the same at first. Not the ‘confessing to me’ part, that never happened; but not wanting to be a part of a harem of a dude they just met; before falling to it eventually.

But maybe I noticed that criticism more in Amoria because she showed she was into me, despite my passive Untrusted, and despite how I was near Magus. It was more than flattering… I was moved.

At that point we were already 4 years and 3 months into the journey.

The other girls were surprisingly supportive, as was my best friend. I suppose it was due to how now, they didn’t have to worry about sharing him anymore, at least more than they already need to-a relief for them… Somehow, he also seemed relieved. I suppose he was just that happy for me.

Yet, being part of a party with him and witnessing the effect of his passive skills, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before Amoria would fall under his Passives as well.

I won’t lie-I really liked her.

Concerned, I discussed the situation with my friend, suggesting maybe it was best if we traveled separately. With his charm, he’d never be lonely, and it seemed like a win-win. I wouldn’t have to worry about who he was with or what might happen with Amoria, and he could continue as he pleased.

I told him that it wasn’t as if we’d never see each other again. We’d just travel independently and meet up from time to time, ensuring his passive skills wouldn’t sway Amoria.

“Listen, man, Amoria has… feelings for me, as you know,” I started, my voice heavy with concern.

“I think we need to split up the party, at least until we get to the Demon Lord. I’ll take her and-“

“What!? Dude, no—I can’t fight bosses without you!” he interrupted, eyes wide with panic. He nearly screamed, and I could see sweat trickling down his face again. I still didn’t understand why he looked so frantic, why he was so adamant about me staying. He even reached out and cupped my hand. If he weren’t constantly surrounded by women, I might have started questioning his orientation. It was really unlike him to react this way, especially with a harem of beauties at his side.

I glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow beneath my helmet.

“S-sorry…” he mumbled, quickly letting go and leaning back awkwardly in his seat.

“L-look… Don’t worry, I would never steal your girlfriend. I would never do that to you,” he added, his tone a strange mix of sincerity and urgency.

“Dude… Look at your passives. It’s bound to happen sooner or later if we stay in the same party,” I said bluntly, not sugarcoating the truth.

But then, something shifted in him. He looked desperate.

“Look, I’ve been with a lot of girls, so I know,” he said, reaching out again—this time, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Amoria truly loves you. For real. That’s something I’ll never have, and something I can never take away. It’s not about passives or skills; you won her over without any of that. You’re better than I’ll ever be in that regard,” he admitted, his voice heavy with honesty. “So… stay, alright? Please… Please.” He paused, then added, almost pleading, “I… I really do need you with me… m-man.”

He was never someone particularly persuasive, especially in this world when it came to same-sex matters. Over time, he became more dull, always met with approval when dealing with the girls—which was most of what he did.

But I could tell the difference between him just trying to convince me and when he was genuinely pouring his heart out.

This was one of those rare moments where he wasn’t just trying to convince me to stay—he was admitting something deep within himself. I could see it in his eyes.

He truly, sincerely believed that he needed me around. And, in a way, I still felt indebted to him.

So, I couldn’t leave.

After staying, I started to enjoy my time with Amoria in our party, whenever we could. We never became intimate—there was never the right time or place, at least according to her.

She mentioned wanting intimacy in a more ‘hygienic’ location, where we’d have all the time in the world… Frankly, it sounded like a lame excuse to me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling she was pulling away.

Still, not wanting to abandon Magus after his plea, I stayed with Amoria in the party.

A weird silence hung in the air, thick enough to cut through, not that I could; considering how utterly weak I was.

Oh, he was well aware. And he definitely knew that I was onto him.

He was going to make good use of those passive skills, especially the harem-related ones. That was a given.. Well, at least he wasn’t the type to mistreat women.

As for me, I had to nail down my own role in this place. They were… Nice enough to let us choose our path.

Choices, choices: summon spirits, wield magic, stealth as an assassin, make everyone submit as a holy paladin, aim as an archer, command beasts, or craft runes.

Magus, with his countless charms, blessings, and favorable passives, could choose anything. Hell, he could even choose everything at once. Most people I mentioned earlier encouraged him to. And thanks to his harem-oriented skills, I’ve witnessed this firsthand—several beauties fighting over who gets to teach him, while the male instructors could only gnaw their fingernails in jealousy… and bubbling hatred. But I wasn’t too worried. The Queen herself favored him, which protected him from the bastards plotting to kill him. (Though, I get their frustration.)

Either way, with all the glamour and luxurious paths out there, you’d think I’d have something going for me. But nope, no such luck.

Armed with my Hard Swing skill, zero talents or passives in the arcane arts, and armor and weapons tied to my Resistance and Strength stats, becoming a simple sword-fighting warrior was my only option. In this world, that path is considered the weakest among all the races.

But, even paired up with someone as exceptional as my friend, I had my own trump card.

It was the Dark Soul skill. Essentially, I was immortal, reviving after every death.

At that moment, hope sparked within me again. I thought, maybe, just maybe, I’d be taken to some secret training program—perhaps a hidden league of assassins that would teach me to conquer death. Something grandiose like that.

But reality couldn’t have been farther from that dream.

Thanks to my Untrusted passive skill, not a single instructor wanted to teach me. Not one. I was left to sit in the Holy Church beside the Royal Academy where we had been summoned, subjected to mocking stares from the very teachers who rejected me. All the while, I watched as Magus was ushered into the Academy, trained alongside other children our age, who envied him. Naturally, all the girls flocked to him, and from what I heard, he had a great time.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t even allowed to leave. They debated what to do with me. Before long, the king himself came to see me. His gaze wasn’t kind, and I was too nervous to meet his eyes—or anyone’s for that matter—especially after the humiliation of being rejected by everyone.

Then, the king had an idea. He summoned the leader of the Royal Knights’ First Battalion, a man named Sir Nickelson.

Nickelson wore bright, gleaming armor and had long, vibrant hair—but that was the extent of his charm. When he saw my skillset, he came up with a plan: train me relentlessly, push me to my limits—and sometimes beyond. Occasionally, they’d have me tortured under his watchful eye. He justified it by claiming his knights were frustrated with Magus, and they needed someone to take it out on. In this way, he killed two birds with one stone—letting his knights vent while ‘training’ me; so he claimed.

I won’t go into the details of what they did, or how far they went. I’ll just say this: I died. A lot.

And this was all before Magus and I set out on our grand journey. While he honed his skills with the mages, paladins, summoners, beast tamers, and runemasters—enjoying the company of female instructors and living the dream at the Academy with tournaments he dominated, harems that flocked to him, and a seemingly effortless rise to power—I spent my days in the barracks, peeing blood.

To say I envied him would be an understatement. I found out his first time was with the voluptuous, mature elven beastmaster instructor. She even let him live in her house while she trained him. The bastard.

His passives made his training feel like a breeze. Mine, on the other hand, felt like an endless hell. Without too much blabbering, I’ll just say that over time, I got somewhat used to dying; and—Despite all the suffering I endured, I was nowhere near as powerful as Magus.

Sometimes, during moments of recess, we’d meet up, and I’d vent to him about everything. He was furious when he learned what the knights had been doing to me. He thought I was just training hard—not being straight-up tortured. Without hesitation, he went straight to the queen, and sure enough, justice was served. Everyone involved got what was coming to them.

My training lasted three years. This happened right near the end of it.

If it weren’t for Magus, I’d still be stuck as their eternal sparring partner—no, their immortal punching bag—just as they had planned. I wasn’t even strong enough for the journey at that point.

But I’ll give those damn knights some credit. Their relentless training—piercing, slashing, and carving me up until I died and respawned—forced my muscles to regenerate stronger with each revival.

Incredibly, I developed dense, compact muscles while shedding all my body fat in a short time. It allowed me to fit comfortably into more compact armor.

Each time I opened my status window after dying, I could see my Vigor, Strength, and Resistance stats increasing despite not actually getting to level up, which was also broken in its own way, given that stats can only increase as you level up.

My Dexterity Stat also increased, but just when I level’d up. It means I could barely control my strength… I had to work more on being gentle, and my accuracy far more than applying more force to each swing on my own, without relying on the DEX stat… Which held me back a lot.

At the time I was still in the knight’s barracks, I started to think that if I endured enough deaths, I might eventually be able to defeat at least one of these fucking knights. If not by using skills, then with just overpowering strength.

But, their skills, experience, and overall stats and levels far surpassed mine. As members of the royal capital’s First Battalion knights, they ranked among the top 300 strongest on the continent, alongside elite adventurers. My odds of success were minimal, especially considering that the rate at which my stats improved with each death had begun to dwindle, eventually ceasing altogether.

I suppose this was because the level of brutality and torture I endured wasn’t severe enough to inflict the kind of trauma needed for my body to evolve from it. In other words, my body had adapted to the torment, as well as my mind.

From then on, the only way I could get stronger was to level up. I didn’t get much of an opportunity to do it with these pricks, but I did have a certain edge even at my situation. I had a level 14’s stats at level 6 thanks to my deaths, and stats would grow at a fixed percentage rate according to your level when you level up, regardless of how great they are. At least at the beginner levels.

It meant I could catch up to Magus… In like 20 years, if he didn’t move a muscle and didn’t improve separately.

Either way, after leaving the Capital, we continued our quest to defeat the demon lord. As you might guess, over the years, we only picked up female companions. His passives didn’t just attract them; they swayed them to our side.

Trustworthy because they were under his spell, we collected them like they were [COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT]. Whenever we heard about a strong woman, we’d head out and recruit her. Even the toughest warrior who’d long locked away her heart couldn’t resist him and would join us.

I still felt that it was unethical, sure, but we needed companions. And LOYAL ones. Having only girls around us guaranteed it.

Before long, our group expanded to seven members:

Millina was the first to join us. Originally a guide working at a remote guild in the middle of the woods, we encountered her when we found ourselves lost in that very forest. From then on, she became an integral part of our group. Her knowledge of edible plants and wildlife made her invaluable, especially when it came to navigating unfamiliar territories. She unfortunately died to a Demonic general 4 and a half years into the journey. It hit me and the rest of us hard, but not nearly as hard as Magus. I think he loved her more than anyone in the party.

Marcilla, the warrior I mentioned earlier, was a tanned, short-haired tomboy with a fierce presence. She declared that dating men was dull and uninteresting. In battle, she was unstoppable-a true force to be reckoned with. She often trained Magus and me, but as time passed, it became clear her favor lay more with Magus for his superior talent… And his passives, I assume. Despite my hopes she would somehow warm up to me, she ended up closer to him, along with Millina.

Lalyn, the aloof ice dragon tamer, viewed other humans with disdain, despite being one herself. She only joined our party to help subdue a rogue dragon, and made it clear she was not interested in any prolonged association with us. However, Magus won her over shockingly fast-I even caught her feeding him with a spoon.

Mika and Rika, the master assassin sisters, excelled in stealth and detecting traps. Their expertise was unparalleled, and, unsurprisingly, they both fell for Magus as well. They took pity on me after numerous mishaps and deaths from unseen traps, deciding to teach me better ways to navigate and remain undetected.

Then there were me and Magus, rounding out the group. Together, we navigated countless challenges, though it often seemed like I was just along for the ride in Magus’s Harem wagon, getting dragged by my feet and a rope… Who am I kidding, of course it was just that.

By the time we reached the Demon Lord’s castle, he was a level 487 Mage/Beastamer/Paladin/Runemaster/Archer/Summoner, or a Legend Rank, according to this world’s standards. Mostly just an attack mage, though. Out of preference.

I was still a level 22 Warrior because I didn’t get to kill a lot of monsters, and couldn’t share Magus’ leveling buff thanks to my Dark Soul Passive. But thanks to my creative ways of dying horribly, my stats were those of a level 100 ~ 150 at that point, I got to C Rank. The rest of the party ranged around 200 to 300, all S-Class.

The only thing we lacked was a healer-based magician. But it wasn’t a huge problem since Magus had some healing skills.

I figured we should beef up our numbers with even more girls since the enemies were getting tougher. The demons had figured out that Magus had an ability that weakened them, so they adjusted their tactics. But for some reason, he was completely against it.

“Haha… We should just get stronger on our own… What’s the point of facing the Demon Lord with an army of girls… Haha… It doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, drops of sweat trickling down his forehead.

Now, I wasn’t exactly thrilled seeing all the girls flock around him and none around me, but it didn’t add up why he was so against the idea. I mean, I didn’t suggest a guy join us—just more girls. Thought he’d be thrilled… but when I saw how shaken he was by the suggestion, I agreed to drop it.