The Tower of Bitter Cold.

It would be a lie to say he did not covet it. Having tasted the benefits of absorbing Vivian’s tower, Berge saw the other Demon Kings’ towers as irresistibly sweet fruit.

But everything had to be done in the proper order. No one would submit simply because he demanded they become his servants.

Conflict between Demon Kings was forbidden outright, and fighting another Demon King inside a tower posed its own problems. A tower strengthened its owner and hindered intruders. Fighting its owner inside someone else’s tower was no different from going into battle with all his wings and scales torn off.

The three Demon Kings were not such easy opponents that he could be confident of winning in that state.

That was why he had set the idea aside, resolving to seize the opportunity if it ever arose.

But now was not the time. Berge barely suppressed the desire threatening to burst out.

“... Do you even know what my method is?”

“Not precisely. It cannot be the simple concealment you mentioned last time, either.”

But whatever it was, there was no denying how effective it had been.

“Do you have no intention of fighting?”

“I will fight. As a Demon King, I will face them proudly.”

For nearly a hundred years, she had gradually lifted the dimensional interference and strengthened her tower. She had summoned demonic creatures and demons, and made the monsters of the snowfields her servants.

She prided herself on being able to contend with most kingdoms. As a Demon King, she could not turn her back without doing anything—not if she meant to uphold the honor she so loudly proclaimed.

“But your opponent is the Empire.”

No, it was the entire continent, furious after falling into Berge’s trap.

“Failure is covered up with success. Balaf Dislord has chosen you as his scapegoat. There is a strong chance this will be another coalition, not an ordinary hero’s journey.”

They had to succeed. Even they could not accept two failures.

“There is no telling how many Stars will be involved.”

Of course, this was different from when they had searched for Berge’s tower. The Tower of Bitter Cold’s location was already known. They only needed to select the elite heroes who would kill her.

But what if those heroes numbered in the hundreds?

Berge could not imagine Reina winning, especially if Balaf Dislord was their commander. And failure meant death.

“Are you worried about me?”

“We are allies, after all.”

“I do not mind dying.”

Becoming a Demon King and entering a lower dimension meant risking one’s life to conquer it. Naturally, death had to remain a constant companion. Demon Kings might hold the advantage in most dimensions, but there was always the possibility of something going wrong.

She was prepared for that much.

But...

“Not my retainers. Not my servants.”

They, too, were prepared to die. They risked their lives to stand beside Reina. But she could not simply accept their wishes.

They had trusted her and followed her here. Sending them into a battle they were certain to lose was no way to repay her servants’ faith. It was wrong.

“I want to save them. That is why I am asking you how.”

“...”

Her heartfelt words made Berge consider his options.

Then he decided to lay everything out honestly. If he appealed to her desire to save her servants and made her realize there was only one way out, perhaps she would choose that path herself.

“There is a way. But you cannot use it.”

“Why not?”

“Because there is no time.”

“Time?”

“I used the dwarves. By helping Vivian, I was able to secure the help of the dwarves she abducted.”

“I know you built a fake tower and laid a trap. I am asking how you hid the real one.”

“I did not hide it. I moved it.”

“... Truly?”

“I had the dwarves build an artifact. One so enormous and magnificent that it could move a tower.”

“... Good heavens.”

“It took months to build. It was only possible because it was me. Because my tower was hidden.”

The coalition had bought him time by preparing to explore remote regions in search of a tower they had yet to discover.

“But your circumstances are different.”

The Tower of Bitter Cold’s location had already been exposed, so they had no need for such preparations.

“Obtaining materials is another problem. I had a trading company under my control then, but after my clash with Jason, it slipped out of my hands.”

“Golden Moon, was it?”

“Yes.”

“... Then it cannot be helped.”

Reina smiled bitterly.

“Then may I ask for another kind of assistance?”

“Anything within my power.”

“I would like you to send the monsters and demonic creatures I gave you as reinforcements.”

“As many as you like, provided you give me storage orbs containing freezing magic.”

Previously, they had simply traveled on foot, but under the present circumstances, a large-scale movement of monsters could not escape human notice.

“And give me mana bombs.”

“Mana bombs? I never thought you would use something like that.”

“There is no clause in the Guide forbidding the use of items from the Middle Realm.”

“Very well. If you want, I will build traps for you as well.”

“Thank you. There is one last thing.”

“Tell me.”

Reina drew a deep breath, then spoke heavily.

“If I fail to stop them, I would like you to accept the surviving frost demons as your servants.”

“... Do not assume the worst.”

“In our current situation, looking only on the bright side would be foolish and stubborn.”

Berge barely swallowed the words that she could survive if she became his servant.

Not now. Offering that to Reina when she had just steeled her resolve would only lead to the worst possible outcome.

“The frost demons will not accept that.”

“I will speak to them and make them understand.”

“... If that is what you want.”

“Thank you. But this is only a contingency. I have no intention of meekly dying.”

She would prepare as best she could. She would face her enemies with everything she had and grant death to many of them.

Balaf Dislord and the Stars. She would bring those lauded by humanity crashing down from the heavens and impress the greatness of a Demon King upon them.

“For that is my role as a Demon King.”

“... Now I feel guilty. This hero’s journey is partly my fault.”

When Berge dropped monsters onto the Black Toad Trading Company, alarm over the Demon Kings had reached its peak, giving rise to a massive coalition army. And once he defeated that army, its unspent anger changed direction and turned toward the snowfields.

The gust Berge had stirred up had become a storm bearing down on Reina.

It would be a lie to say he felt no guilt. She, at least, had always helped him.

“... Yes. When you put it that way, I suppose it is.”

Reina murmured quietly, but soon shook her head.

“No, you merely did what you had to do. I have no intention of faulting a Demon King for fulfilling his responsibilities. If there is a problem, it is that this dimension has too many heroes and humans, and they are too strong.”

She spoke with composure.

Berge admired her for it. She was the complete opposite of Vivian, who had abandoned everything and begged in the face of death.

“I will help as much as I can. I will snap Balaf Dislord’s neck.”

“Thank you.”

Berge took the storage orbs containing freezing magic and returned to his tower.

Reina sat upon her throne and summoned her servants.

“War is unavoidable. The heroes will come to take my head.”

“That will never happen. We shall freeze everyone who targets you, my lord, and turn them into ornaments for the snowfields.”

“How reassuring.”

Reina smiled. Life stirred within the cold, austere tower.

“Armand.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Summon every monster in the snowfields. Do not leave out a single one capable of fighting.”

“Yes.”

“Nina.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Berge will soon visit with the dwarves. Keep the monsters and demonic creatures under control so they do not attack the dwarves.”

“Dwarves?”

Seeing the puzzled expressions on Nina and the other demons, Reina explained.

“Berge helped Vivian Blunt. He says the dwarves she abducted are with him as payment.”

“Good heavens. So that is how she survived.”

“I thought something was strange.”

The demons clicked their tongues.

“Still, they will be of help now. They will make mana bombs and plant them throughout the snowfields.”

“Yes.”

Reina gave further detailed instructions. After some time, her demeanor changed.

“Does everyone understand?”

“Yes, my lord!”

“They must have thought me a very easy target.”

That must be why they were coming for her after suffering at Berge’s hands.

Of course, in a sense, they were not wrong. Reina had no ability to hide her tower or build a false one to lay a trap, as Berge had.

But she had had a hundred years. The dimensional interference lifted over that time had allowed her true strength to emerge.

And she had ten thousand monsters, one thousand demonic creatures, and one hundred demons.

Reina unleashed her cold.

“I will show them.”

How terribly wrong their choice had been. Why she was called the Demon King of Bitter Cold.

“The snowfields will become a hell that devours them.”

“It shall be as you will, my lord!”

The demons prostrated themselves as one.

Reina maintained a haughty expression. No matter how urgent or dangerous the situation, a Demon King must never show anxiety before her servants.

* * *

“... So you are going to the snowfields, my lord?”

Logger asked, looking distinctly displeased.

“Stop denying reality. You and every other dwarf are going to the snowfields with me.”

“Why?”

“To help Reina. You probably know her better as Bitter Cold—the Demon King of Bitter Cold.”

“N-no...”

“We cannot!”

An elderly dwarf objected.

“Why not?”

“We are busy remodeling the tower. We must finish as soon as possible so...”

“You can take the tower apart?”

“... Ahem. Not necessarily that. It is for your sake, my lord...”

BOOM!

Berge’s flames erupted. Dark crimson heat melted part of the tower.

“... How did he do that so easily?”

“When I tried, the damn thing would not break no matter what the hell I did...”

That was only natural. The tower’s interior was as tough as its exterior. What had just happened was effectively the tower weakening itself in response to its owner’s will.

“You bastards tried to take my tower apart without permission?”

“N-no, that is not...”

“He did it! I know nothing about it!”

Berge snorted at the babbling dwarves and tossed Logger the fragments scattered around them.

“This is what I promised you.”

“Th-thank you!”

Logger’s face brightened, and greed filled the other dwarves’ eyes.

“You lot.”

“Yes!”

“Are you going to the snowfields or not? Will you make mana bombs and traps there, or will you not?”

“Um...if I am thinking what you are thinking, then if we go...?”

“You are probably right. I am not a Demon King who skimps on rewards. Do the work, and I pay you well.”

“I will go!”

“No! I know far more about bombs than this fellow!”

“I am a fur dwarf! I can withstand the cold!”

“What fur do you have, you squat little bastard?”

“Hair counts as fur! Oh, do you not have any?”

“You half-finished, dented shield of a bastard!”

“Take off your hat. I cannot hear you over all that blubbering!”

As the room descended into chaos in an instant, Berge silently threw a magic orb. Every dwarf turned into an ice statue.

“Lavinia.”

“Me too?”

“No. Gather all the monsters here.”

“Okay.”

In truth, there were not many monsters left. Most had died fighting the heroes in the fake tower.

But even these would be better than nothing.

“Me too.”

“You want to study the snowfield monsters?”

“Yes.”

“Listen carefully. Heroes are coming there. Humans. Plenty of them are important enough to recognize your face straightaway.”

“A mask.”

“The Four Heavenly Kings do wear masks. But no. More importantly, just imagining Reina’s reaction is horrifying.”

“...”

Lavinia puffed out her cheeks. Berge shoved a chocolate into her mouth.

“... Sweet.”

“It is chocolate because it is sweet. If I have the time, I will catch a few snowfield monsters for you.”

“Really? Promise!”

“I think you can stop that childish business now.”

“Promise.”

“Surely we trust each other that much by now?”

“Promise!”

Damn it, how had he ended up a nanny?

Berge hooked his little finger around hers.