Somewhere far from the Capital... Several hours after Van, Varlog, and Yilla made peace with Nickelson and the Capital...
"Lord Belial!" A feminine voice called out, footsteps echoing across a battlefield strewn with the corpses of thousands of monsters and beasts. The source of the voice approached the center of the devastation.
"Yeah...?" A lazy voice responded from the dead center, where a pile of corpses and blood had accumulated, towering several dozen meters high. At the top of this gruesome mound, a singular figure lounged comfortably, using the bodies as cushions.
"I have news of the realms around us... I thought you'd be interested," the figure said enthusiastically as she looked up.
"Ahh... Dear Mirias, you know I hate news~..." Belial groaned.
"Well... I think you'll want to hear this," she teased, tossing him a letter.
"...?" Belial hummed in curiosity as he caught the note with his claws, bringing it close to his face to read.
"... Holy shit," he muttered, his eyes widening as he read the contents. He snapped his gaze down at Mirias. "You sure our dear Savitar wasn't high on something when she wrote all this?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.
"Sir, you know we're all loyal to you and only you. We wouldn't dare send you misinformation," Mirias affirmed with a stern gaze.
"Haaah... I guess you'd never do that..." Belial stretched as he stood, yawning as he did so.
"What would you like to do, Lord Belial?" she asked.
"Dear Mirias, set a course... I want to make a stop at the humans' Capital of Varolon before heading back to the demon realm," he said, his tone no longer lazy as he sprang up and effortlessly climbed down from the mountain of corpses.
"You wish to return to the demon realm as well? It's been over 30 years..." she murmured.
"True... But with all the crazy shit that's been happening, and with my adorable cousin getting married, how could I not drop by and say hello? Besides, I bet my father is dying to see me again—quite literally, considering his advanced age. Might as well do it now before he croaks," Belial said with a confident smirk as he began walking away from the battlefield.
"Seriously... A lot of interesting things have started happening while I was away. It's about time I made one hell of a mess." He stretched his body, his muscles taut with anticipation.
"Van Hellix, huh?" he murmured to himself. "He sounds interesting. I want to meet him first. Let's go to Varolon."
"Yes, Lord Belial," Mirias responded.
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Not too long ago, Varlog and Nickelson's parties made it inside the Capital. Varlog and Yilla were given a place to stay while Nickelson made arrangements with the King. Meanwhile, Liliac was ordered to stand guard far away.
The moment they entered their room, Varlog collapsed to the floor, his wound reopening.
"Master Varlog!!" Yilla cried as she rushed to his side, spotting the injury.
"That wound...!! Where did you get it?!?" she exclaimed, pressing her hands on the wound and applying a form of magic to it.
"Haah... Worry not, dear. With your help, I'll survive this..." Varlog breathed heavily, his face pale as he forced a smile for his maid.
"I'm just getting old, that's all..." he chuckled, but Yilla's lips tightened as she concentrated on her magic, slowly closing the wound.
'It's not just the wound... I can feel it...! His body is a mess! How long has this been going on...?!' she thought, struggling to hold back tears.
"Oh, don't make such a face, dear..." Varlog cooed, raising his other arm to pat her head. "Everyone dies in the end... I'm just beating you in the race," he added with a soft chuckle.
Yilla remained silent, looking down as she continued to treat Varlog.
"I don't intend to die anytime soon, though. I may be old, but there are things I need to ensure before I reunite with the Archdevil," he said, gently caressing her cheek.
"But..." she started, her voice cracking, "What are we supposed to do without you?" she asked, leaning into his touch.
"LAUGH!" Varlog suddenly exclaimed. "For I've managed to live a very fulfilling life, dear."
Yilla pursed her lips even more, struggling to hold back her emotions.
"That aside, I don't plan to die just yet!" he assured her. "I still need to witness dear Van and Her Majesty's offspring, at the very least!" he said with a smile.
Yilla met his gaze squarely. "You know, I've made peace with it. That Her Majesty and Master Van are going to be together. It was hard... But I've accepted it," she admitted.
"I am well aware," Varlog said, giving her a playful pat on the head. "I wouldn't have said what I just did if I hadn't felt you've grown significantly," he proudly exclaimed as Yilla finished treating his wound.
"And... If you are in desperate need of a husband yourself, I would offer you my youngest son..." he said as he got up and took a seat in a nearby chair, "... If I knew where he was."
"Lord... Belial?" she asked, sitting on the bed and facing Varlog.
"Indeed. I'd dare say, among all of my offspring, he's the one who inherited both my charms AND my looks. Not that the others lack in those areas, but he's closer to you, Her Majesty, and Van in age, so you would definitely be happy for the rest of your life," he said confidently and proudly.
"Huh. How is he like?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Well, aside from assuring you of his charms and looks, I..." Varlog said, lowering his gaze. "I do not know how different he turned out. I haven't seen him in over 30 years, ever since he was 10..." he murmured, a note of sadness in his voice. "I will say, he was quite the naughty child..." he added, his voice trailing off as he recalled the memories.
"Why... Why did he leave?" Yilla wondered aloud.
Varlog merely smiled. "That is a story for another time!" he said, clasping his arms together. "Now, how about we go and check out the local cuisine?" He enthusiastically rose from his seat, heading for the door. Yilla nodded along, following his lead - heading out to the Royal Capital in disguise.
The Great Royal Capital, the center of the human kingdom.
The Royal Capital was home to many men and women with important duties, one of whom was the Royal Capital's chief historian. For the past 40 years, he had meticulously maintained the kingdom's records. Earlier that day, his eager disciple, Mongol—the Archivist of The Royal Guard—had come to inquire about Van Hellix. Despite his initial reservations and lack of enthusiasm towards the young Garry, who had also inquired about Van Hellix a day earlier, something piqued Mongol's interest.
'Why would Van Hellix return to the capital after all this time? And why now, with Arutol's arrival and the demon realm offering support?' These questions surged in Mongol's mind, and his curiosity got the better of him. Known for his historical expertise, Mongol prided himself on knowing both the past and present. But this time, his curiosity outweighed his pride. He needed to know if Van Hellix was truly the unremarkable figure he once thought.
Mongol sought the help of his mentor, the very man who had trained both Mongol and his father in the art of history and archiving. He had recently realized that the book, The Demon Lord's Fall Saga—which detailed the exploits of Magus and his party in bringing down the demon lord—did not have a first edition. It all began from the second edition, which Mongol himself had edited to produce a third.
The old historian, however, dismissed his concerns. "It's just a misprint," he assured Mongol, before granting him permission to alter the archives and sending him on his way.
"Oh my..." the historian muttered once Mongol had left, blowing dust off an old leather-bound book that had long been forgotten. "It seems I'll need to get rid of this... Since you've undoubtedly returned, Van Hellix."
The old man gave the book one last brush with his palm before tossing it into the fireplace.
"Even though it's quite the valuable historical artifact, I can't risk this falling into the wrong hands, now, can I?" he said, watching as the leather darkened and cracked in the flames, while the pages disintegrated into ash. "We have quite the reputation to uphold."
He sighed, gazing into the fire. "Hopefully, you've improved yourself since then..."
The Demon Lord's Fall Saga, Chapter 7, Vol.2, 1st Edition
Hero Magus and his party had just arrived at the village of Malum, a rural outpost where mercenaries and drifters often passed through to rest. Despite the inherent dangers of the region, the villagers were simple folk, content with a roof over their heads, a warm fire, and a decent meal once a week.
Malum, situated near the border where law was difficult to enforce, had its share of robberies and crimes. To maintain order, the village leaders imposed severe punishments on wrongdoers, serving as a grim reminder to the others to stay in line.
Weary from their travels and countless battles, the Hero and his companions decided that Malum would be a suitable place to rest and recover.
It was then that Hero Magus noticed Van Hellix, his fellow transmigrator and party member, standing in the village square. Van was attempting to protect a fair lady of the village from a group of bandits. The villagers, their eyes fixed on the scene, watched as she cowered behind Van's cold armor, a greatsword strapped to his back—a most unwieldy weapon for a knight.
The lady was out of place in such a rough village, her delicate features a stark contrast to her surroundings. Van, eager to prove himself and showcase his mediocre skills, drew his massive sword. With a clumsy swing, he raised it high above his head, intending to intimidate the bandits by pointing the blade at their leader's throat.
But alas, dear reader, never follow the example of Van Hellix.
For in his reckless haste, Van miscalculated the distance between himself, the lady, and his blade. As he drew his sword, he cleaved the only fair lady in the village in half from bottom to top. The once hopeful crowd gasped in horror, and the bandits, who had been his adversaries, burst into mocking laughter.
Van, realizing too late the gravity of his mistake, felt the warm rain of the lady's blood as it splattered down upon him. There were no cheers for Van that day—only the shocked silence of the villagers and the cruel cackling of the bandits.
His end was swift. Van Hellix was hanged for his actions, but Hero Magus, unable to bear his friend's prolonged suffering, mercifully ended his life by burning him to ash as he hung, granting him a quick death.
And thus, Van Hellix met his tragic end.
[For context, look at: Cautionary Tale, Part 1]