“Are you certain?”

『Yes. They say over a hundred heroes died fighting the dragon. His name has taken the spotlight, but Balaf Dislord can’t take all the credit.』

‘They drove a dragon this far...’

It would have died even if left alone, so it was fair to say they had killed it rather than merely driven it to the brink.

An expedition with no fewer than four Stars. The Empire had painstakingly assembled it in cooperation with the Heroes’ Guild, and its overall caliber was high. Its strength was not necessarily inferior to a dragon’s. Since they had actually brought one down, it could even be called overwhelming.

‘Stars or not, it was a fully grown dragon.’

The power of a fully grown dragon in its prime defied description. Even the Demon King Military Academy taught its students to avoid conflict with dragons wherever possible in dimensions where they existed.

Yet it had fallen. To the expedition.

‘If that expedition stormed my tower...’

He could imagine nothing but the worst of the worst.

‘Of course, even now that I’ve absorbed the dragon heart...’

The situation was no different. His total power had increased, but dimensional interference remained unchanged. Had that disappeared too, he would not have cared, but tens of thousands were beyond him for now.

‘But what if they fell for the fake tower and I wiped out most of them?’

If that allowed him to kill the four Stars—no, with over a dozen kingdoms allied, perhaps even more Stars would come. If he could kill them all...

‘There’ll be no one left to stop me.’

Except the Demon King, Jason Cockmundo.

“Understood. Thank you.”

『Did you claim the dragon?』

“I did.”

『You truly are amazing, my lord.』

“Enough of that nonsense.”

『It isn’t nonsense. Your black hair looked nice, but your dark red hair looks wonderfully handsome too. That’s why I said it.』

“... Huh?”

CLICK

The connection ended.

... What had that been just now?

* * *

“Dragon, dragon, dragon, dragon, dragon, dragon!”

“We’ll make armor from those scales. Weapons from those bones. Bows from the tendons, and those teeth...!”

“I want to craft! I want to craft! I want to craft!”

Madness. There was no other word for it.

A dragon’s corpse lay beside the rapidly rising fake tower. The dwarves kept glancing at it after every three blows of their hammers.

“Heheheh... Doing anything else with a dragon’s corpse right in front of us is a disgrace to dwarven craftsmanship...”

Occasionally, a dwarf who had lost all reason would charge toward the corpse, only to be blocked by fellow craftsmen.

“Get a grip! He said he’d take away our entire share if we caused trouble before the tower was finished!”

“You damn bastard! If we lose the corpse because of you, you’re going to answer for it!”

Even as they kept one another in check, their greed for the dragon grew. And all that desire went straight into building the tower.

“We have to build the tower before he’ll let us touch the corpse? Then let’s build it!”

“It’s only about fifty meters tall, isn’t it? I’ll finish it in two weeks—no, one!”

At the pinnacle of it all stood Logger: the dwarf entrusted by the Demon King and Louise Berft with full authority over the dwarven craftsmen, and the dwarf who coveted the dragon more than anyone.

“Move faster! Will you take responsibility if the corpse deteriorates?”

“Those lustrous scales! Those mighty bones! Those beautiful horns! Shouldn’t we dismantle them and craft with them while they’re still intact?”

“You’re slower than the chimeras! Do you want Princess Lavinia to take everything?”

Drawing on his experience building the legs, Logger expertly directed the dwarves while working harder than anyone at the forefront himself. Berge could not have been more pleased.

‘I came by it unexpectedly, but it certainly makes an excellent bargaining chip.’

Dragon scales with supreme resistance to magic. Dragon bones said to be harder than any metal. Tendons that were virtually impossible to sever. Every part was a heavenly crafting material, with nothing to discard.

What if they made armor from the scales, swords and spears from the bones, and bows from the tendons? What if Berft’s finest craftsmen made them?

‘The Red Dragon Sword, Barstad.’

Wouldn’t they produce a wealth of weapons at least its equal, perhaps even better? A single sword made of dragon bone had become the symbol of the Empire. What if he equipped everyone in the tower with such things?

‘Just imagining it is exhilarating.’

Perhaps it truly was no mere dream: crushing the Empire head-on, destroying every kingdom, and conquering Arain. Bringing Arain into the embrace of the Demon Realm and returning home in triumph.

“I look forward to it.”

Berge prayed that the coalition seeking his tower would be formed all the sooner.

* * *

Was it thanks to the dwarves’ madness, or Lavinia’s determination? The tower was completed sooner than expected, revealing its imposing form in less than three weeks.

“The bombs?”

“We left a space between the outer and inner walls and filled it entirely with mana bombs.”

“Excellent.”

The entire fifty-meter tower was packed with bombs. The moment Berge triggered the spell formula, a chain of explosions would obliterate the surroundings.

How many could possibly survive that blast?

What emotions would sweep through humanity once the expedition was annihilated? Anger? Fear? Grief? Or despair?

It did not matter. Those emotions would deepen, and all of them would become Berge’s demonic energy.

“Lavinia.”

“Yes.”

“Fill the first and second floors with monsters. They needn’t be too densely packed, but they mustn’t be too weak either.”

“Yes. Dragon?”

“Yes, it’s time to divide up the dragon.”

“Yay.”

Lavinia beamed. The dwarves, who had been listening quietly, raced to sit before Berge.

“We trust the great Demon King to distribute it fairly!”

“We trust you!”

Logger called out, and the dwarves echoed him.

‘The dragon is certainly enormous.’

Why did it seem so woefully inadequate in the face of the dwarves’ and Lavinia’s greed?

“Let’s return to the tower first.”

They went through the sea into the tower. Berge took the corpse out of his storage dimension.

“What’s this? It’s a dragon!”

“A dragon!”

“Good heavens.”

The succubus queen, the humans, the dwarf princess, and the elves were united in astonishment.

“Where did you get this?”

“Found it.”

“... What the hell is that bullshit?”

He ignored Vivian’s contorted expression.

“My lord?”

“As you heard, I found it on the way.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Clearly, since I brought it back.”

Berge summoned everyone in the tower to the first floor. Every pair of bright, eager eyes turned toward him.

“I’m going to distribute the dragon materials among you. Raise your hand if you need any.”

Everyone raised a hand, without exception.

“You too, Louise?”

“I need materials for my axe.”

“The dwarves will handle that for you.”

“In that case...”

Louise quietly lowered her hand.

“As far as I know, elves don’t craft things.”

“We need them for magical research.”

Elena answered on behalf of the elves.

“We don’t particularly need bones or scales. But the blood and eyes are the finest magical reagents.”

“I see. But what do you want, Vivian?”

“... A horn.”

“A horn?”

She pointed to the bare spot on one side of her head.

“Yes, a horn.”

“Denied.”

“Why? You sold mine off, so you should replace it! That’s how you’re supposed to treat your servants!”

“Suppose I gave you one. How do you intend to attach it?”

“We have that crazy princess! She’s good at making chimeras. Surely she can stick one horn onto my head?”

“I wonder.”

Berge shook his head. Talented as Lavinia was at creating chimeras, she would not be skilled enough to safely graft a dragon’s horn onto the unfamiliar body of a succubus queen.

And more importantly...

“This horn is bigger than your head.”

Thus, denied.

“N-no! Refining! The dwarves can refine it! They can compress it!”

Her gaze sought out the dwarves, but they desperately avoided it.

“Logger.”

“... Uh, well...”

Under the weight of his fellow dwarves’ stares, Logger struggled to wipe away his sweat. His skin prickled.

“Give me a straight answer. Don’t try any bullshit.”

“It’s possible, it is possible, but...”

“You’re awfully long-winded. Shall I leave you out?”

“We can do it! Absolutely!”

“Then you’re avoiding her because you don’t want to give up a horn.”

“... Ahem.”

“Ahemmm.”

The dwarves made every effort to avoid Berge’s gaze.

“Lavinia. Can you do it?”

“Demon King. Dragon. Horn. Fun.”

“You just want to try it because it sounds fun? You can’t be so reckless...”

“Can do.”

“She says she can!”

“... Fine. One horn goes to Vivian. Logger, you’re responsible for refining it properly and handing it over to Lavinia.”

“... Understood.”

Berge moved on.

“Lavinia.”

“Everything?”

“Monsters. All.”

“Don’t be absurd. Cher is the only one you may graft the dragon’s remains onto.”

If she grafted dragon parts onto every shoddy monster, nothing would be left. It would be a waste.

“... Mean.”

Lavinia puffed out her cheeks.

“If you don’t like it, you can go without.”

“Cher. Horn, scales, muscle.”

“How much?”

“Cher’s body. Scales.”

“Enough scales to cover the whole body, then.”

“Muscle.”

“You’ll replace some of Cher’s muscles with the dragon’s?”

“Yes.”

“And the horn will go on the head?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That accounts for all the horns.”

“Ah...”

“Oh...”

The dwarves groaned in disappointment.

“This is so unfair! We don’t even get a chance at the most important parts, the horns!”

“You’re the largest group. You’ll be allotted the most materials. Isn’t it a little greedy to want the horns as well?”

“... In the end, each individual gets the same amount.”

“I’ll give you a little extra.”

“I believe you are absolutely correct, my lord!”

“You traitor!”

“I also believe you are right, my lord!”

“So do I!”

The dwarves shouted in chorus. Even those who had initially ground their teeth at Logger ultimately had no choice but to change tack.

“Logger, you won’t need the eyes, will you?”

“The eyes wouldn’t be bad, but taking them would reduce our allotment of other parts, wouldn’t it?”

“Obviously.”

“Then we don’t need them. I’d prefer more teeth instead.”

“Then the eyes go to the elves. What about the blood?”

“A moderate amount will suffice.”

“And you, Kaede?”

“I’d like new armor and a sword too...”

Kaede murmured shyly. She was a knight, and she wanted a good sword and good armor. All the more so if they were made from dragon bone.

“Understood. Logger, you’re responsible for making them.”

“Why me again?”

“Because you’re a hero.”

“...”

“Also, make robes from the scales. Two.”

“Pardon?”

“One is for Elena, and the other will go to Ernyan.”

“... Yes.”

“That’s everyone, then?”

“M-me too!”

It was the golem controller Berge had abducted to make golem cores, then briefly forgotten existed.

“Your name was...?”

“Raymon, great Demon King!”

“What do you want, then?”

“Bones, blood, and eyes! Have you ever imagined it? A golem made of dragon bone!”

Build its body from dragon bones, inscribe spell formulas and circuits with dragon blood, and use a dragon’s eye as its core. Just imagining that magnificent creation was exhilarating.

“It will be the strongest golem in history!”

“Hmm.”

Berge stroked his chin. The proposal sounded quite appealing. But there was one prerequisite.

“Become my servant, and I’ll let you make it.”

“Uh...”

After pondering for a long while, Raymon raised his head again.

“Perhaps... just perhaps...”

“Speak.”

“If I successfully make the golem cores and build the golems, will you send me back to Akan?”

“... Who knows?”

Berge gave no answer, only an ambiguous smile. And that was answer enough.

“... If I can’t go back anyway, I’ll become your servant and at least make what I want!”

“I never said I wouldn’t send you back.”

“Then I’ll just become your servant!”

“A wise choice.”

Thus, the distribution concluded. They began butchering the dragon’s corpse.

* * *

The Traparta Union. At the center of the continent, the elite forces of every nation had gathered in one place. Raising their respective banners and emblems, they steeled their fighting spirits.

“At last, the time has come!”

Rufus Jespine, the coalition’s supreme commander, stepped onto the platform. Looking out over an army numbering a hundred thousand, he spoke in a magically amplified voice.

“Some thousand years ago, the Demon Kings descended, and we were forced to live in terror. Heroes arose to resist them, but we were trapped in a cycle of hatred and war with no end in sight.”

“It has been only a little over a hundred years since that changed. To sever this accursed bond, countless people cast away their lives as though they were nothing! For humanity! For the continent!”

“We killed four of the five Demon Kings and won peace. We showed them that humanity held the upper hand. We granted them mercy befitting our superiority!”

But now...

“That peace is being shaken.”

There was a Demon King who exploited their generous mercy to toy with them and mock them.

“Simply because we cannot find his tower, we are becoming the weaker side once more. Do you wish to see that distant past return?”

“No!”

The world shook with the resounding cry.

“Precisely. That is why I—why we—must no longer stand by and watch the Demon King of Hellfire. We must make an example of him, so that no Demon King dares harbor such futile delusions!”

And now was...

“That very moment!”

Rufus raised the flag. The emblem of the continent, symbolizing the coalition, fluttered in the wind.

“Rise, all of you! Fight for humanity’s future! Find the Demon King and show him there will be no more mercy!”

March forth!

ROOOAAAR!

With fervent cheers, the coalition army of a hundred and ten thousand marched out to find the Tower of Hellfire.