The lionlike countenance of Demon Commander Gezarius contorted in utter disgust as he looked down at the corpses of his Werewolf underlings.
For a Demon Commander, losing a few men of the lowest rank didn’t cut deep; it wasn’t even a scratch. However, while he was disgusted that it had happened in his own territory, what truly appalled him was…
“Them again…”
In his hands, Gezarius held a collection of wooden objects that were, in effect, calling cards. They had been discovered by the underlings who had dragged the Werewolf corpses to Gezarius from where they had been murdered. And scorched onto each one was the crest of House Zehrfeld.
In recent days, Weretigers and Werewolves falling prey to humans in Gezarius’s territory of Triot had become commonplace. In nearly every attack, those pieces of wood were left behind next to the corpses of monsters whose magic stones were stolen. They knew exactly who was responsible.
“At the hands of a mere human! Unacceptable!” He kicked a corpse that had once been one of his underlings, sending it flying. The corpse slammed into a tree, and both collapsed in a tangle. This accomplished nothing, but he had nowhere else to direct his anger.
Unbeknown to Werner, one of Gezarius’s officers, who had disguised himself as a noble, had been slain by the knight brigade during the Demon attack on the capital. The magician-officer’s death would mean an even more dull base from the Demon army, but Werner had no way of knowing that.
Right then, Gezarius’s demonic underlings lifted their noses to the air and began to sniff. A moment later, Gezarius came to the same realization they’d already had. He cursed under his breath. His anger had caused him to revert back to the form of a beast, his human clothes lying in shreds beneath him.
“There’s no helping it. I need some replacements.”
With that, he turned into the form of his stolen body. Or rather, he simply reverted. Disgruntled, he changed into new shoes and clothes. About half of his underlings followed suit, changing into human form and dressing themselves.
Their clothes generally consisted of whatever they stole from corpses. They made sure to select only those that lacked bloodstains in noticeable places, but still, they could hardly be considered flattering. They looked like fugitives.
“Human movements never cease to be awkward.”
“Indeed.”
He didn’t require a response. Half ignoring the voice, he ordered some of his troops who had taken human form to follow him. He wanted to hide the Werewolf corpses.
For a short while, Gezarius followed a trackless path, still grimacing with disgust. When he discovered the presence he had sensed earlier, he was the first to speak. “So, it was you.”
“G-greetings, Lord Mangold.”
“No need for greetings. The Zehrfeld brat is in the fortress, correct?”
“Y-yes. Recently, all his orders have been issued from there.”
The man before Gezarius had been exiled from Anheim. Last time, he had only the clothes on his back, but he appeared to have expanded his wardrobe since then. Gezarius concluded that the man must have affiliates in Anheim and laughed with Mangold’s mouth.
“I-I propose that we first attack Anheim…”
“They would cross the river and attack us from behind if we did that.”
“I-it’s true that the Zehrfeld brat has said so, but if we opened the gates from inside, then…”
“I’m not expecting that much out of you.”
A demon in a man’s body is one thing, but a real human? Utterly unreliable, thought Gezarius. He now knew about the fortress Werner was using as his seat of command for the battle. What good would it do them to attack Anheim?
“Even should the foundation be strong, the walls are nothing but planks. The Demon army shall destroy such a fortress in an instant.”
“A-about that, Lord Mangold, can we really fight alongside the Demon army?”
“Don’t worry,” the being in Mangold’s body sneered as he raised his hand. Two Werewolves appeared before him, drawing a squeal from the man. “See? I have the Demons on my side.”
“H-how brilliant of you, Lord Mangold.”
“If we bring them the brat’s head, the townsfolk will change their minds. Stay hidden in Anheim until then.”
“Understood. When you do, we will be expecting a reward.”
“I know,” barked Gezarius, silently bemoaning the incorrigible nature of humans. The only future that awaited this man was getting eaten alongside everyone else in Anheim once the Zehrfeld brat was dead.
However, Gezarius hid those intentions. Using the body of Mangold, which he had stolen for himself, Gezarius put on a superficial grin. “I have faith in you.”
“Yessir!”