Chapter 15 – Look at Me. See Me. (3)

I returned to Cariel’s room after nightfall. If I arrived too soon, that perceptive little bird would realize I had been observing his parents. Better to feign disinterest.

“I’ve been thinking.”

–And…? Don’t waste my time, little bird.–

“I need power.”

–You know I won’t simply give it to you. Do you want me to increase the… intensity… of your training?–

“Your training… it’s making me stronger. I can feel it. But it’s… limited. Survival skills, tactics… nothing more.”

–Perhaps continued exposure will… yield different results.– Whether he found his own breakthrough… that was up to him. If he grew tired of being beaten, of simply… enduring… perhaps he would finally embrace the only other option: relentless aggression. The training scenarios offered only two paths: victory, or death.

“I need the power to… win. To crush my opponents. To… incapacitate them.”

–Such a roundabout way of saying you want to be overwhelmingly strong.– A predictable request. Dodging wasn’t enough. He needed to fight back.

–But why ask me? You have your father. And your… fiancée. She’s quite capable, isn’t she? Why not ask her for help?–

“……” He knew I was being deliberately cruel. He was learning to read me, after only a few days. I was… surprised. I despised the effort required to truly see someone. Unless they were an enemy, a rival, a threat…

–Perhaps you should use this opportunity to… reconcile with your parents.–

“Are you insane?” Reconcile?

“They’re the ones who created this mess. What am I supposed to do? Apologize for their failings?”

I chuckled softly. At least he still refers to them with respect. Despite the simmering resentment, he maintained a semblance of… propriety.

–Such a pitiful creature.–

“What was that?”

–Just an observation.– How much abuse had he endured, to become so… twisted? The thought was… disturbingly intriguing. Such resentment… such suppressed rage… it could be a powerful motivator. Imagine the satisfaction of finally unleashing that fury, tearing his tormentors apart. A shame I won’t get to witness it.

“I have a proposal.”

–Oh? Do tell.–

“A contract.”

What?

–You’re not seriously thinking of selling your soul, are you? I told you, I’m not interested.–

“A favor, then. Grant me one request.”

–A favor? From you? What could you possibly offer me? Will you kill your father, to avenge me?–

He hesitated, a flicker of… something… in his eyes.

–Did you actually… consider it? You ungrateful wretch! The gods will strike you down!–

“……” The Saintess had done a thorough job of instilling… faith. Though his rebellious spirit clearly rejected such constraints. The anger in his eyes, the suppressed fury… it was a potent force.

–Very well. I’m listening. What’s your proposal?–

“You’ll have to… listen to find out.”

What?

–Are you seriously trying to… bargain with me? From a position of weakness?–

“I know you’re merciful to those who surrender. And… ruthless to those who defy you. A calculated strategy, to inspire fear, to offer the illusion of choice, to ensure… obedience.”

–Hardly a secret, little bird.–

He had grasped the essence of it, despite the limited, and likely biased, information available to him. He wasn’t swayed by prejudice, by preconceived notions. He saw beyond the simplistic labels of race, nation, and affiliation, understanding that such divisions, while fostering internal unity, ultimately led to conflict. An unusual perspective for someone of his age and upbringing. Ah, yes. The hostage years. Exposure to different cultures, different perspectives…

–I don’t want anything from you, little bird.–

“You’re the Demon King. Surely there’s something you desire. Some unfulfilled ambition, some lingering regret.”

–Such things are for fools. And I am not a fool.– A perfectly logical assessment. She had pursued wisdom precisely to avoid such… foolishness. To be swayed by sentiment, by regret… that would be a betrayal of her very being. Like drinking seawater to quench your thirst. A common mistake, yes, but not one she would make.

“Then be… magnanimous. Bestow your… generosity upon me. As befits a king.”

–That, little bird, is akin to asking a demon to… well, let’s just say it’s not something we do.– Generosity. Mercy. Selflessness. These were anathema to the demonfolk.

And yet…

There had been… exceptions.

–So you want a… gift? A royal boon? From me? You’re not even my subject.–

“I could be. If you accepted me as your vassal.”

–I loathe… clinginess.– In the past, such impudence would have been met with swift, brutal retribution. –Are you truly that desperate?–

“You’ve already given me more than I deserve. I’m grateful. But it’s not enough. Not to… convince my father. Or to… defeat him.”

–Hah.– A thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths… he might become a formidable warrior, if he could endure it. But defeating a hero? Luelde, the man who had killed her? Impossible. Even if he mastered the training scenarios, I could crush him with a flick of my wrist.

He’s a contradiction. He had the potential for greatness, the character, the will. But he lacked the power. And that… that was everything. He wasn’t ordinary, not exactly. But his true potential remained… hidden.

–So you’re not satisfied, are you?– Even as he grew stronger, he remained frustrated, driven by a constant need to prove himself, to overcome the endless challenges, the impossible odds. That relentless determination… there was a reason for it.

–What do you intend to do… after you defeat your father?–

“Does it matter? I just… want to win.”

What comes after? He couldn’t even see past his current predicament, and yet… he was thinking about the future? Such naive optimism. I wasn’t prone to such… frivolous fantasies. Cold, hard logic… that was my domain. To be swayed by emotions, by the opinions of others… to doubt your own judgment, your own choices… to blame others for your failures, to shirk responsibility… that was the path to true weakness.

And that was why I could laugh, even in death. Because it was all… predictable. Expected.

But was it… right? Or wrong?

Neither. The Great Demon King had said it best: We are slaves, forced to solve problems with no answers. The meaning of life, the right path, the wrong path… we had to choose for ourselves.

–The meaning of life is yours to define, little bird. And you alone are responsible for your choices.–

–Those are… wise words.–

“?”

–Very well. Let’s make a deal.– I snapped my fingers, and a contract, written in light, appeared in the air.

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1. Cariel will defeat his father, Luelde the Hero, and obtain his acknowledgement of defeat. Failure to do so will result in a curse of unimaginable despair, extending to all he holds dear, persisting until his bloodline is extinguished. (This excludes Luelde, Ermina, and any future siblings.)
2. No compromises or manipulations will be tolerated. The Demon King of Wisdom’s judgment is absolute.
3. In return, the Demon King of Wisdom will provide training and power enhancement to Cariel’s satisfaction. (Excluding her own unique abilities and knowledge.)
4. The contract is fulfilled upon victory or failure. Failure resulting in death will incur an additional price, determined by the Demon King of Wisdom.

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–Accept, and mark it, as before.–

The terms were terrifying. A gamble of epic proportions. But if he succeeded… the rewards would be immense.

–Or… accept your fate. Live a life of quiet desperation, or run and hide. The choice is yours.–

He didn’t hesitate. His hand trembled, his face pale, but he pressed his mark onto the contract. Reckless. Foolish. Almost… endearing.

His choice. I felt no pity, no scorn. Resolve was easy. Following through… that was the true challenge.

I wouldn’t be impressed. Wouldn’t offer praise. Wouldn’t acknowledge his… growth. Not yet. Countless beings had sworn oaths before me. Few had kept them.

If I ever truly respect you, little bird… it will be the day you fulfill this contract.

–Entertain me, little bird. Don’t disappoint.– I hoped this flicker of… interest… wouldn’t turn to regret.