Whilst I was preparing my horns to present for the generals to prove that I was the one that killed the demon king, I got some flash from the dead demon that I killed and burnt it.
As a fyr mage, obviously I would have burnt it. I even burnt the roots of the horns a bit until it was black but not damaged. This was a mere visual trick that could be passed of as me being careful with the fragile products.
You wouldn't think that a lot of thought goes into the checking process of the horns and you'd be right. There isn't a way in hell, heaven or any afterlife you believe in that the authorities wouldn't check the horns to see if it's real.
In the auction, each participate brings a person to check if the horns are real demon horns and if it is, then everything is good to go.
It's a very straightforward and simple process that has worked for the longest time.
With the blood and some viscera and flesh spread on the root of the horns mixed with some hair and other things found on the head of the demons and humans.
With my lines practiced, the horns covered and my body all sweaty from a long 5 hour run, I start my return. I hold the head of the demon I killed by his hair and remember how to act.
When I was slowly walking back to the camp from the massive broken down doors of the city we just destroyed, some demons who were being led by some soldiers were looking at me in fear and terror.
I was holding one of their own by his hair with his long horns strapped to my waist, so that's understandable.
"Waaaaahhhhh! Mama! I miss mama!"
"Shut up damned sinner! Keep it to yourself!"
"Gaaahhhhh! My baby! Let me go to my baby! Please!"
"Hey! Back in line damn it! Don't disobey or else the kid gets it, dumbass!"
With a firm smack from the baton to her cheek, the woman was struck into fear and stopped resisting the soldiers already. The kid meanwhile was taken away by some soldiers.
I don't usually think about others too much, especially when it doesn't concern me such a s something as petty as this, but it is really gut wrenching when you watch a mother plead for her child's life.
What made it worse was the soldiers looking down at the mother-son pair as if they were mere trash, or maybe even manure from one of the horses.
The big thing that catches your eye is the fact that the soldiers don't have devil horns while the demons, the ones being abused, do. It's strangely ironic and slightly poetic in a way.
Who is the real demons here? Who is the real sinner here?
The morality of this situation isn't grey, nor is it "blurred". This is black. These soldiers have no morals and their thought process is beyond fixing. They are too far gone.
'...this doesn't concern me, this doesn't concern me'
While muttering to myself, I notice that some of the soldiers were staring at me, well, staring at my waist. I'm assuming that they are kind of knowing what is on my waist right now.
I walk further into the camp until I reached the center point with all the general huts. Currently, they were having a meeting on how this horn hunting will proceed and how long this might possibly take.
When I was about to enter, the soldiers gyaru ding the entérale reluctantly block my way. With an annoyed expression, I start my berating.
"You know who I am right?"
"Y-yes sir hero, but the generals are currently-"
"Then if you know me, you'd better out some respect on me. You won't even give a notice of who is waiting to the generals? Am I that unimportant?"
"A-ahh! N-no sir! Definitely not, I sincerely apologize. I shall inform them right away!"
My simple intimidation tactic of overwhelming your opponent with words and not letting them finish their sentence works as the trembling soldier marches into the room of the generals.
I specifically heard a loud and angry "who is so important that you interrupt us" from the meeting room. That was definitely one of the worse generals.
He is of the power-tripping bunch amongst the late Dunham.
The soldier tells them who was at the door and the general immediately shut up. Before waiting for the go signal from the soldier, I walked in the room proudly with a head and a pair of horns on my waist.
It was firmly strapped on and held there by a leather belt, side by side with my second scary weapon, my sword.
"Gentlemen..."
As I greeted them all, their expressions don't get any better. They aren't focusing on what was on my body since they are more concerned about my face and why I'm here in the first place.
To answer them, I abruptly throw the head on the table, making the wooden table make a "thunk" sound. It bounced for a bit before rolling towards the generals on the other side.
It was a fairly large table so I wasn't afraid of it falling off. The devil head I threw was a very handsome devil who probably could have been the toyboy of some of lonely noble. Too bad he was a devil and too bad I ran into him.
The beautiful features combined with the occasional masculine features melded together to creature a masterpiece of a face. It was befitting of a noble.
Maybe even a royal? Perhaps a demon king?
Well, that was the illusion. In fact, the demon head that I threw down wasn't good looking at all. He was no pig, but it was clear that he wasn't a prince, much less a demon king.
So, I took some makeup from the females heroes and dressed up his head. All of his blemishes were gone and his lips were now full of live. It was a simple technique that could fool a lot of people, considering the fact that these old geezers would touch a dead body with their wrinkly hands.
"G-gahhh! What the hell is that? Damn it! Take it away, it has bled on my suit!"
"Don't worry. This is just the demon king"
The words I said right after caught all of their attention, especially Fulcrum. Instead of throwing the horns like I did with the head, I settled for just smacking it with one of my hands.
They all looked at my hip and their eyes widened at the sight. Even if they wanted to hide their expression and excitement, their shaky hands wouldn't let them hide it for much longer.
"Y-y-y-you actually got it...fuck! Finally!"
The generals were slowly realizing that they don't have to continue staying in this hellhole. This hellhole that is a place with only limited options.
Fulcrum and some of the other more ambitious generals weren't too happy however. They knew who my support was and that their masters wouldn't be pleased.
They couldn't assassinate me, so all they could try was to steal my horns. And how the hell are they going to do that?
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(A.N) yo! Another chapter for you beautiful readers and I hope that you enjoyed this one!
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