Although I was cast out at ten,
I was still, in some sense, a native Gaian.
As such, I understood Gaian common sense reasonably well, including how they viewed demons.
To Gaians, Manifestors were ticking time bombs on the verge of exploding,
and demons were bombs that had already gone off—an unstoppable inferno that mercilessly massacred humans.
They were mindless embodiments of violence.
And honestly, that wasn’t far from the truth.
History bore witness to it.
Every time demons appeared, the pages of history were soaked in blood.
Even the most recent demons, though varying in degree, shared a common tendency to indiscriminately attack humans.
I had firmly believed that eradicating demons was the right thing to do.
No, it wasn’t just a belief—it was certainty.
Demons were an unmistakable enemy, inherently different from humanity.
The demons I’d encountered in my mind were always like Seere—that conniving bastard.
But this one?
What was she?
Why was she pouring out complaints, practically begging me to listen?
At least the demons I knew before carried an air of menace.
This one? If anything, she seemed... petty.
“Of course, I knew this might happen!” she said indignantly.
“I thought it would be better to come to the human realm and expand my influence than deal with the tiresome power struggles of the demon realm.
I even considered it a vacation of sorts, thinking it’d be fine to stay confined for a while.”
The situation had come to this because, as I’d planned earlier, I’d stepped outside briefly to check the weather and returned.
Apparently, the mere fact that I returned had left her so touched that she’d latched onto me, chattering endlessly.
“But I never thought it would take this long!” she exclaimed.
“Huh. Is that so...” I mumbled back.
For hours.
It seemed that centuries of isolation had left her starved for conversation.
Though she claimed she occasionally summoned beasts to entertain herself, they weren’t exactly conversational partners.
I listened quietly.
Though it felt like I’d become her emotional dumping ground, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship with her.
That loneliness... I understood it better than anyone. Maybe not to her extent, but I’d spent plenty of time alone here, too.
There was another reason I tolerated her ramblings:
hidden among her complaints was surprisingly useful information.
The mention of “power struggles” made it clear that the demon realm wasn’t unified.
Her tone suggested she was somewhat weary of it, too.
Though she claimed the human realm was boring, the fact that she hadn’t returned spoke volumes.
Her fear of other demons’ scrutiny was peculiar in itself.
Though she was cautious and guarded, I figured the longer we talked, the more I’d glean from her.
After a while, as her monologue continued, I began to feel drowsy.
Night was approaching, and I decided to cut her off.
“That’s enough. I’ve heard plenty,” I said.
“Huh? Why so suddenly?” she asked, looking slightly anxious.
“It’s late. Time to sleep.”
At this, she visibly relaxed, letting out a small sigh of relief.
But the relief was short-lived, as she quickly raised her chin and declared with a haughty air:
“How pathetically human. To waste part of your day on sleep.”
The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.
“Oh, so you don’t sleep?” I asked.
“Do you know who I am? I am Barbatos, a demon revered even in the demon realm, a transcendent being. Sleep is unnecessary for someone like me!”
Despite her words, I could see the faint traces of fatigue under her eyes.
The sight was almost comical, but I ignored it and lay down on the ground.
“Sure, sure. Us feeble humans need our rest, so kindly be quiet,” I said.
“You insolent—!”
I planned to sleep right here by the altar.
Even though a demon was right in front of me, she didn’t seem particularly dangerous, and the underground setting felt secure.
It was better than sleeping out in the open.
Even if monsters attacked, my instincts—sharpened through countless battles—would alert me.
I was confident I could respond in time.
And so, despite her grumbling, I fell asleep.
Thus began my strange coexistence with a demon whose body consisted only of a neck.
Days passed.
If the previous twenty days had been a battlefield, the days following were relatively peaceful.
The monsters didn’t attack recklessly, and with my journey to the Deep Layer’s core complete, my primary goal was met.
While waiting for the rain to fall, I decided to stay at the altar and keep her company.
In the process, I learned a few things about her.
For one, she was undeniably inhuman.
She experienced hunger but didn’t need to eat.
Similarly, though she felt fatigue, her need for sleep was minimal.
Her physiology was enviable, to say the least.
But perhaps her most notable trait was her arrogance, which was remarkable even for someone with only a neck.
One morning, I awoke to find her smirking meaningfully.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You should be grateful to me,” she said, her tone dripping with self-satisfaction.
“...Huh?”
“I could summon beasts into this cave whenever I please, yet I haven’t.
Had I done so, you’d have died a hundred times over. In short, I’ve been merciful to you.”
She added with a smug tilt of her head:
“So you should thank me and show proper respect.”
I chuckled dryly. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate being addressed casually as “hey” or “you.”
But of course, I wasn’t one to let her off so easily.
“Go ahead. Summon them,” I said.
“W-what?”
“How do you think I made it here in the first place?”
“Th-that’s... pure luck! You must’ve avoided the stronger ones by chance! If you’d encountered Tiche on your way, you wouldn’t even be alive to boast.”
At that, I tilted my head.
There was an unfamiliar term in her response.
“Tiche?”
She explained:
“Tiche is a beast I personally nurtured from a young age, supplying it with my energy. It’s an unusually large tiger—you must’ve seen it.”
A realization hit me.
“Oh. You mean the Mountain Lord? Yeah, I killed it a few days ago.”
“...What?”
Her face went blank with shock.
“Don’t lie! That beast was a giant predator even demons would struggle to subdue. How could you possibly—?”
“I’m not lying. Want proof?”
I pulled out one of the Mountain Lord’s claws, the distinctive striped fur still attached.
Barbatos stared at it, her face a mix of disbelief and despair.
“No... How could you... It took so long to raise it...”
Then, as if to cope with the loss, she lashed out at me.
“You cruel wretch! You villainous scoundrel!”
Her choice of words was oddly childish, as though her composure had regressed.
“Quiet,” I said, stuffing a finger into her mouth.
Her smugness had been getting on my nerves.
“Guh—cough! What are you doing?!”
She scowled, her expression twisting as she spat out the foreign object.
The next moment, she attempted to bite me, forcing me to pull my hand away quickly. Even her bite strength was impressive—befitting a demon.
“You insolent fool!” she snapped, glaring at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Despite occasional clashes, we got along surprisingly well.
To her, I was an attentive audience; to me, she was a valuable source of information.
Over time, I learned more from her.
One day, I asked, “Why do demons invade this world, anyway?”
Her answer came without hesitation.
“Simple. The kings of the demon realm are beginning to feel it’s too small to contain them.”
“Kings?”
“Yes. There are four kings in the demon realm, one for each cardinal direction: north, south, east, and west.”
This was new to me.
I’d known there was a hierarchy among demons but hadn’t realized there were multiple kings.
“Their relations aren’t good. They constantly fight over territory, yet their power and influence are so evenly matched that no one can gain the upper hand.
Then one of them came up with an idea:
Instead of competing amongst ourselves, why not expand into other worlds? The other kings agreed.”
So that’s why demons kept appearing.
I thought of this world’s history—how the demon Decarabia had appeared 600 years ago.
The invasion had likely begun with that plan.
“We have no choice but to follow,” she continued.
“No one can defy the kings... Though, honestly, I don’t see the point. The demon realm isn’t that small.”
She sighed heavily.
It struck me as strangely similar to the grumbling of a disgruntled office worker.
I asked her one final question:
“What about you? If you descend fully, what will you do?”
She fell silent, then spoke with a resolute expression.
“What do you think? Of course, I’d subjugate your kind and claim territory for myself. It’s inevitable.”
I let out a sigh.
Looking at the altar that held her neck, I couldn’t shake the thought:
Should I destroy it?