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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Standard of the Standard
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Even now, not much had changed, but before my regression, I was brimming with pride.
Overconfident if you could call it that.
Arrogant if you wanted to put it that way.
Racial pride, flowery titles like top graduate of all time, and the constant praise from those around me had molded me into that.
It wasn't just empty words either. Among my fellow cadets, there wasn't a single one who could even compare to me.
Even in the Demon King Academy, where only the finest demons gathered, I stood unrivaled.
I had enrolled superior and graduated overwhelmingly so.
That's why I saw Aren, the worst dimension of all, as a trophy that would only highlight my excellence.
No, I thought Aren was the only fitting choice for me.
The dimension for someone like the greatest me had to be Aren, naturally.
Despite the warnings from a few, I stubbornly descended upon Aren anyway. And against everyone's expectations, I achieved some results.
I pushed ahead of the Demon Kings who were already there but too busy hiding themselves. That success made me believe I could conquer Aren and rise even higher.
Until I realized that damned thing called the Standard of the Demon King was meant for heroes, not Demon Kings.
'Even thinking back on it now makes me want to curse.'
Either way, the me from the past had experienced the dimension called Aren once. And that experience was an invaluable asset.
An asset that let me assume I wouldn't blindly follow the standard.
With that, I truly believed I could conquer Aren.
But Gordon clearly didn't think so.
"Aren?! Aren of all places?!"
Gordon tore at his hair. Strands as soft as silk, worthy of an elf, fell away regrettably.
"We have nothing! In a situation where even the easiest place might be too much, the worst dimension?!"
His teary-eyed expression overlapped with the past.
'It'll be tough, but we have you, my lord Demon King, and me. It's more than worth challenging! No, Aren is the only one that sparks my fighting spirit!'
I remembered him being pretty spirited back then.
"I'm not going! I refuse! If you want to die, die alone!"
What was the difference between then and now?
Quite a lot.
For starters, back then I was the model student. The top graduate acknowledged by all. But now? I was the rebellious troublemaker shaking up demon values.
Due to the butterfly effect, the benefits I'd received and the demons who'd stepped up to follow me were gone.
'No wonder it's different.'
But I couldn't exactly tell him about the regression, so all I could do was order him to follow.
"How about you stop ripping out your hair? It's a waste, isn't it?"
"Do you think hair is the problem right now?!"
It backfired. Even more strands rolled across the floor.
If I gave him another chance and he refused, would he end up completely bald?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Regardless of Gordon's opposition, the moment of dispatch arrived.
The furious Alcaine had nailed me to Aren permanently and threatened everyone not to help.
It was only natural that Gordon lost even more hair trying to persuade demon acquaintances to at least spare me the worst.
Time passed, and the day came. Standing before the portal were just me and Gordon—the most pathetic send-off in the history of Demon King descents.
The one consolation was that the Archduke himself, Alcaine, came to see us off. Though his intentions weren't purely kind, of course.
"Even if you cry and beg now, there'll be no second chances. Rot away in that godforsaken dimension for life."
"Thanks for the well-wishes. I'll turn it into a complete colony and come back."
"Guts worthy of the top graduate. If you truly pull that off, I'll grant any one request."
"Looking forward to it."
I brushed off Alcaine's increasingly crumpled expression with a smile.
Grabbing the limp, corpse-like Gordon by the collar, I dragged him along.
And so, for the first time in demon realm history, a Demon King and his vice officer alone...
Crossed through the dimensional portal.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The first thing to greet us was a flurry of pure white snowflakes.
Chilly cold seeped into our bodies, weakened further by the dimension's interference.
I exhaled a frosty breath and brushed the snow from my hair.
"We made it properly."
"This place...?"
"Northern continent, somewhere in the Erjest Mountains."
A natural fortress untouched by human hands.
Monsters overflowed from every direction, and the harsh environment repelled the weak.
That's why here...
"We'll build the tower."
Where no one can find it.
And even if they do, where they won't dare approach.
"That goes against the standard."
Gordon bristled.
Standard number one: A Demon King must build a tower in the assigned world.
The tenet simply says to build a tower, but later demons added their own detailed conditions.
Like choosing a suitably rugged spot—but not one humans could never reach.
"So?"
"The standard is the unbreakable law of the demon realm."
"Me, who caused that uproar at graduation? You really think I'll follow it?"
"...Have you truly abandoned even a Demon King's pride?"
I clicked my tongue at his growing disgust.
I understood. Deep-rooted faith isn't easily denied without death—or something equivalent.
I didn't answer.
Slowly scanning the mountain peaks, I spotted a suitable valley. Surrounded by summits, it wouldn't be easily found without pinpointing the location.
The perfect spot for a tower.
"This'll do."
"Not only building it in an isolated place, but hiding the tower entirely?"
Gordon, who'd been watching me, piped up again.
"And?"
"I'll stop you. Pointing out a Demon King's mistakes and advising him is my duty."
"Obeying your Demon King's orders is your duty too."
I shut Gordon down lightly and dug into the ground. I planted the tower seed Alcaine had given me.
Covered it with soil, cut my palm, and dripped blood. As the parched earth drank it up in an instant, I infused demonic energy.
A faint vibration.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [The tower recognizes the user.] [Race: Black Flame Demon Dragon Clan.] [Name: Berge Dayas.]
The tower's system recognized me. The seed, absorbing its master's blood and demonic energy, unleashed its latent potential in one burst.
Ku-gu-gu-gu-
The mountain shook. The air roiled from the massive demonic wave.
A colossal five-story tower emerged.
Its form was crude. Smooth without a single seam, like a block of metal carved whole, but devoid of any other decoration.
Worlds apart from the 20-story tower it had grown to just before my regression, but nostalgia made it charming in its own way.
Kiiiek-
The door opened. I stepped inside over the red carpet rolled out in welcome.
And took in the empty, cavernous interior.
Before, it had been filled with summoned beasts earned as top graduate perks and demons drawn by my fame. But this time, only Gordon.
"Take a good look. This is the tower you'll manage from now on."
"Is there even anything worth managing?"
He snapped curtly. His constant griping was getting on my nerves.
If he weren't a capable subordinate who'd manage the tower in my stead—if he weren't the loyal one who'd toiled for me in my previous life—his teeth would've been shattered by now.
"Ease up. Don't elves treasure their ears above all?"
"..."
Gordon flinched, trembling. No matter the situation, I was still a Demon King—the demon realm's top-tier powerhouse.
Gordon lifted his head, shaking.
"...I'll keep it in mind. And as your vice officer for now, I'll offer advice."
"Speak."
"Kidnap a princess."
"Reason?"
"Kidnap a princess and leave traces of yourself as the Demon King. Then one kingdom's rage and grief will all flow straight to you. Those emotions will turn into sweet demonic energy, making you even stronger."
Even amid fear, he burned with zeal to set my wayward path straight.
That was Gordon's strength. But this time, his direction was off.
"Rejected."
"The standard must be followed because it's the standard! It's the standard because it's more efficient! It's been passed down for over ten thousand years and endures because there's reason behind it!"
"That might hold for other dimensions, but not here in Aren."
"What makes Aren different from the others?"
"A thousand years without conquest should be proof enough."
"But the Founding Demon Emperor set the standard for more efficient demonic energy gathering."
"Half right."
After being toyed with by heroes and dying, I wondered.
Was I special? Or were they all like that?
Had the standard truly devolved into a system for heroes, not Demon Kings?
From right after Demon King Academy graduation to my dispatch to Aren, I scoured every record in the demon realm.
The librarians shot me looks of disgust for being a rebel, but I forced my way in and checked anyway.
And I realized.
The intent behind the Founding Demon Emperor establishing the standard.
And why it had warped only in Aren.
"To understand why the Founding Demon Emperor set that standard, you need to know how demons gather demonic energy."
Demons draw energy from the life force and negative emotions of humans or other heteroraces.
The higher the quality, the greater the quantity, the better.
"No demon doesn't know that."
"Then, what do you think is the way for a Demon King invading the middle realm to gain higher-quality, greater quantities of demonic energy?"
"Fame."
Demons, humans, heteroraces—all gain fame from achievements.
For Demon Kings invading countless middle-realm dimensions, achievements meant toppling nations and defeating their nemeses, the heroes.
Larger kingdoms.
Stronger heroes.
Destroying the former and slaying the latter was the path to fame for a Demon King.
"Killing weak heroes a hundred times over won't move humans much. Because slaying weaklings doesn't prove the Demon King is strong."
But what if you kill a hero everyone knows is mighty?
"A strong hero isn't just any hero. He's hope itself."
"So we should follow the standard even more? We need to raise those kinds of heroes."
To build fame, Demon Kings needed strong heroes—but such heroes weren't common.
So the Founding Demon Emperor resolved: If none exist, create them. Raise them and devour them.
Thus, the standard's clause to aid a hero's growth in every way was born.
Beyond mere symbolism as humanity's representative, the despair of a strong hero's defeat yielded even greater value. One stone, two birds.
"That method wasn't wrong."
The elite of demon elites enter the Demon King Academy. Graduating, risking life and limb, is for only a select few.
Such Demon Kings operate on a level beyond humans or other heteroraces. Even with dimensional interference limiting power, it's the same.
"Countless dimensions have fallen and are falling that way. In a sense, the standard wasn't wrong."
"Then why...?"
"But Aren is different."
Aren has one fundamental difference from other dimensions.
"Yes. Just one."
A tiny difference, yet an enormous one.
"Aren has too many heroes."
No, "many" doesn't even begin to cover it.
"A truly damned amount."
That was why our roles had reversed.
When circumstances change, rules must adapt—but to demons, the standard wasn't a rule; it was faith.
The Standard of the Demon King had spread covertly, leading to heroes exploiting it en masse.
And thus, the heroes' standard for using the Demon King's standard was born.
"So I'll use that standard against them."
I'll toy with the trash heroes who mock the foolish Demon Kings blindly following it.