Volume 10 Chapter 36 Majin Roldi — the False Flag of Dayrid
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Excuse me, Sir Klock. A messenger has arrived from Dayrid.”
”Huh? What’d you say?”
The wet sound of lips parting broke the lazy stillness. A man sat on the bed; a ponytailed girl straddled him, frozen mid-motion. Suzette’s eyes narrowed. The girl, flustered, grabbed a sheet to hide her bare breasts.
”I’ve received a letter. The messenger is waiting outside—will you meet with him?”
”Sure.”
”There’s also the possibility of reconnaissance—assassination or information gathering.”
”So you’re saying… maybe I shouldn’t meet him?”
Suzette unfolded the letter she’d taken. Her voice was cool, precise as she read: “‘We have endured under a false banner. The gates of Dayrid are open. Prepare for battle against the Demon Lord’s Army at Portline. —Primrose, Primlena.’”
”Primrose.”
A false banner—so they’d been pretending allegiance to the Demon Lord’s Army. If that’s true, then the town and its people might still be safe. And the sender, judging by the name, was a Merfolk.
”Lady Primlena has not yet returned. It’s likely she remains in Dayrid—but there is a possibility of a trap.”
”Got it. You’ll handle it, then?”
”Understood.”
It was something Klock should probably deal with personally, but when Suzette said it like that, it was better to let her take charge. The messenger stayed the night at camp and departed for Dayrid the next morning.
”Primrose—apparently she’s the mayor’s wife,” Suzette told him at dawn, while tents were being packed away. She had not only read the letter but also pried more details from the messenger himself.
”His wife, huh? Since when? No way it’s a recent thing.”
”No. I asked. Seems they’ve been married for over ten years.”
”For real? Then it’s not some war-time marriage of convenience.”
The mayor of Dayrid was human—and his wife, a Merfolk. That alone twisted the whole story. If true, then Dayrid might have survived unscathed.
”As for the Demon Lord’s Army at Portline—reports say there are about twenty thousand of them. They’ve been stationed there for days, watching Dayrid. If the town isn’t actually under Merfolk control, the monsters will march the moment they realize it.”
”Twenty thousand, huh… that’s a lot.”
Tens of thousands again. Klock rubbed his temple. The odds were as bad as ever.
Dayrid had faked submission to the Merfolk. It seemed Primrose—Primlena—had realized the danger and sought Sanctuary’s protection, declaring the town under Merfolk rule to ward off invasion.
As expected, the Demon Lord’s Army advanced north along Nichirin Road to Portline. There they halted at the supply grounds, glaring across the Regina Aqueduct toward Dayrid. The force was led by demonkin under Bandanzine’s banner—not Primlena’s. Different chains of command meant no cooperation, and with Dayrid flying the Merfolk’s flag, they couldn’t attack outright.
Now the Army was negotiating—demanding humans and food supplies. Dayrid had offered some food to appear cooperative, but refused to hand over its people. They were watching how the enemy would respond.
”So the lack of contact till now—”
”They acted as though they were part of the Demon Lord’s side.”
Makes sense. Maybe they feared spies inside the town. Or maybe they’d judged that no help would come even if they called for it. Better to stay quiet and bide their time. Primlena’s presence, as a Merfolk, probably made that decision possible.
So. The monsters were sitting in Portline. Bad news. That must be why Fit hasn’t returned. The southern routes were probably crawling with patrols. …All the scouts—captured, maybe.
”What shall we do?”
”If we enter Dayrid, the monsters will know they’re on the wrong side. We’ll have to fight Portline’s army. First, I’ll contact Ada.”
”I’ll send a messenger.”
”Good. Wait—no. The problem’s how to make her believe us.”
He couldn’t mention Primlena. Explaining her complicated role would take too long—and worse, it could make both her and Klock look suspicious. But if he hid her involvement entirely, how would Ada interpret Dayrid’s message?
”Ah, so the mayor’s wife is merfolk, huh.”
Brigante’s unit had joined with Ada’s on the plains of Diva—about a day and a half from Dayrid.
Ada listened, frowning.
”I get the story, but how much of it can we trust? That mayor—he’s really on our side?”
Dayrid claimed to be an ally. They’d survived by waving a false flag. Entering the town was possible, but it would provoke the Demon Lord’s forces immediately. So Klock came in person instead of sending a messenger, explaining everything face-to-face.
Ada’s brow creased deeper with each word. Around them, adventurers murmured, uneasy.
He’d expected as much. Without context, no one would believe a tale of a Merfolk mayor’s wife. In times like these, you couldn’t afford not to suspect a trap.
”There’s no solid proof,” Klock admitted. “Just what the messenger said—a human clerk, by the way. And if the Demon Lord’s Army really is killing every human they see, well… that part fits.”
”Even so…”
Ada folded her arms on the table, grimacing.
”It could still be a setup. We can’t trust them. But since they’re claiming to be allies, attacking Dayrid outright would look bad.”
One of the adventurers at the long table spoke up—a burly warrior, voice rough as gravel.
”If it’s a trap, we’re walking straight into it. We can’t march into Dayrid like that.”
”Raki and Alard are right,” said another, a sly-looking man beside an older fellow who didn’t seem the adventurer type. “Heading there blind’s asking to die.”
Around twenty squad leaders filled the tent, called together on short notice after hearing Klock’s report. Looking around, it was all hardened men and women in old travel gear—no formal soldiers among them. All adventurers.
”Klock. What’s your take?” Ada asked.
”Dayrid’s suspicious, sure—but we can’t write it off as a lie, either. First thing’s to deal with the army at Portline. They’re the real threat.”
At least that much was certain. Whatever Dayrid’s truth, the southern force was undeniably the enemy.
”Got a plan, then?”
”Tell Dayrid to strike Portline from the sea. We’ll attack from land. If they move when we ask, we’ll know they’re real allies.”
”And if they don’t?”
”Then they’re enemies—or worse, playing both sides.”
”So they’d be smiling for us and the bastards alike, huh?”
”That’s probably it. They talk big about being on the humans’ side, but they’re cozying up to the Demon Lord’s Army too. If they’re playing both sides, they’ll back whoever wins.”
Ada rubbed her chin at Klock’s words. Of course, this was just her take for now. Truth be told, Klock didn’t doubt Dayrid much at all. The Merfolk had already proven trustworthy—despite serving the Demon Lord’s forces, they’d quietly helped countless times. It was hard to imagine them resorting to trickery now.
”Hold up,” Alard cut in, his sharp gaze flashing toward Klock for a brief instant. “Marching to Portline’s risky. What if they hit us from behind once we’re gone?”
”Good point,” Ada said. “If we attack Portline, we’ll also need to guard against Dayrid. That means splitting our forces.”
”That’s insane,” Raki objected, arms crossed, voice like steel. “We’ve only got three thousand. They’ve got twenty thousand monsters. We can’t afford to divide.”
He was right—the numbers alone made things grim. Even without splitting, attacking would be a nightmare. They didn’t even know if the monsters were capable of defending properly, but one wrong move could mean annihilation.
”Then maybe we wait for the Count?” someone suggested.
”But we’re the vanguard,” Ada countered. “Sitting still till the main force arrives looks bad. People still blame us for Sanrid, remember?”
”They moved too soon back then,” someone muttered. “We were right not to.”
So they’d already seen battle in Sanrid—and bore the scars of it.
”We don’t need to split the army,” Klock said finally. “Station mounted lookouts along the Regina Aqueduct from Dayrid. That won’t weaken us much. If Dayrid doesn’t cooperate, we can’t win anyway. If they send ships, good. If instead they march on us from land, we pull back immediately.”
Unlike the monsters, Dayrid’s forces would be human—meaning faster on horseback. If they turned, retreat would still be possible.
When Klock spoke, the tent went still. Alard’s brow twisted; now he glared outright. He wasn’t alone—several others watched Klock with faces ranging from disdain to hostility. It wasn’t disagreement with his plan—it was him they hated.
”No need for that,” Alard said lazily, not even looking his way. “We’re the main force. You lot can babysit Dayrid.”
”Huh? Why the hell would we—”
”You heard me,” Alard cut him off. “We don’t need Brigante’s people slowing us down.”
He leaned back, hands behind his head, looking bored. A faint, derisive snort slipped through the air. Klock glanced around but met no one’s eyes. No open challenge, no insults—just the weight of silent rejection, sharp as pins. A village meeting, with the outsider already condemned.
No one opposed Alard. Not one. Clearly, Klock wasn’t welcome here.
Yeah, figures. Adventurers were always like this. Look down on the new guy, sneer, push him aside. They didn’t even bother to hide it. Maybe he should thank them for being honest.
”Fine,” he said at last. “We’re newcomers. Haven’t trained with you, and coordination’d be rough anyway. We’ll take Dayrid. Works for you?”
He tossed up his hands like throwing in a spoon.
Alard’s grin widened. “Heh. The so-called hero party knows their place. Not gonna fight me for the front line?”
Klock just waved him off, smiling faintly. Do what you want.
Alard’s grin twisted further as he looked around; the others shrugged, smirked, or pretended not to care. The air was thick with smug satisfaction.
”That’ll do, then?” Ada’s calm voice cut through, her expression unreadable.
”Yeah. We’ll watch them—see if they attack, send ships, or stay quiet. If they strike, we’ll stall them till your unit wins or escapes.”
”With just three hundred?” she asked.
”Plenty.”
Ada said nothing more. The tension bled out of the room, leaving only cold air. He could feel their attention slipping away from him like water off stone.
Alard and his cronies—faces that once simmered with irritation—now wore mocking smiles. A few whispered among themselves, stealing glances his way. Even Ada looked faintly bored. The whole scene screamed one thing: you don’t belong.
Yeah, look how pleased they are. The Count ordered me to lead the charge, and now I’ve just volunteered to hang back. Guarding Dayrid’s basically rear duty. When the Count hears about this, I’ll be lucky if I’m not stripped of rank. That’s what they think, anyway.
Deena had arranged Brigante’s formation so Klock would be at the front—because the Count had demanded it. Ada knew that. So did every squad leader here. Otherwise, the plan would fall apart.
So yeah, Klock had just thrown that away. Refused the vanguard position. When Alard asked if he wanted the front, he’d said nothing. Didn’t even ask for it.
That alone could get him demoted—and they all knew it.
Klock exhaled through his nose. Quiet, sharp.
”Then I’ll head back first. If anything changes, send word.”
He turned and left the meeting, every step a release from the suffocating air. But as he crossed the tent’s threshold, someone muttered, loud enough for all to hear: “Heh. Damn con man.”
No one objected. When he looked back, no eyes met his—except Ada’s. Blank. Silent.
This is why I hate adventurers. Humans always need someone to look down on—but adventurers? They make it an art form. I don’t have magic power. To those who can sense it, that alone makes me suspect. A weakling calling himself the Brave Knight? Yeah, must be a fraud.
Maybe that’s the right of the strong—to mock strangers and feel superior. You could even call it proof of their power. Or maybe they’re just sheltered fools who’ve never met something truly terrifying. Big fish, small pond.
Still, fire’s not all bad. At least they won’t freeze when the fighting starts. Guess I should be glad we figured out early we don’t mix.
Didn’t expect to be shut out this completely, though.
Honestly, the signs were there back at the tavern before Conro. Not one adventurer from Ada’s ranks had looked happy to see him.
Comrades, sure—but not allies. To Ada, they were trusted subordinates. To Klock, they were a threat closer than the Demon Lord’s Army itself.
That was why he hadn’t brought Suzette along—no sense painting a target on her back.
He stepped out of the great tent and left camp without looking back, his pace brisk, almost like retreat. Someone would probably talk later, but he didn’t care.
Truth was, it was dangerous here. To these people, Klock looked like a weak pretender—a fool daring to call himself a Brave Knight. He couldn’t be sure when one of them might decide to prove a point. From now on, anywhere they camped, he’d have to watch his back, especially at night.
Yeah. Figures. He’d never expected things to go smoothly. But none of that mattered. What mattered was Fit.
* * *
Portline— A harbor lined with warehouses and cold stone piers, all built for freight, not for life. Dayrid’s own port dealt in fish and trade. Portline, by contrast, was little more than a massive storage ground—a dead dockyard.
Under the cloak of midnight, several figures appeared by the mooring posts. Their movements were deliberate, heavy with intent. One man, beaten and bound, was dragged into view and lashed to a chair.
”W–what are you doing…!” he cried.
He was clearly an adventurer—unarmed, his clothes shredded, his body covered in bruises. The ropes bit deep into his limbs, pinning him like an animal for slaughter.
”I told you everything I know! Please! You promised—just let me go!”
Shadows encircled him—humanoid, yet wrong. Their skin was pale, and from their brows jutted small, backward-pointing horns.
”Tell me,” one of them asked, voice calm, almost kind. “Do you pray to your god?”
The speaker stood apart, watching from behind. Leader, by the way the others deferred.
”You humans,” he said softly, “worship Teekua as your Goddess, yet you offer her nothing. You show no devotion, no tribute—and so, she offers you no light. I understand. Truly. We Demonkin have long since abandoned the Goddess ourselves.”
The bound man’s face twisted in confusion, fear robbing him of words.
”The World Tree bends toward emptiness,” the horned one continued. “It takes our offerings and gives nothing back. The dragons ignore us, the Phantasmal Beasts reject all men. So we have turned instead to the Lake of Wishes.”
”What the hell are you talking about!?”
”You stand now at the edge of extinction—our gift to you. It proves what you are: a species without guidance. If your Goddess truly loved you, she’d have sent her Saint to save you. But no. You stumble, blind and weak, proud in your foolishness. Tell me—have you no shame?”
The Demonkin leader raised something from the shadows. A bowl-shaped object—large enough to swallow a man’s face whole.
”What… what is that?”
The captive’s face went pale. He didn’t know what it was, but his body knew to fear it. Something inside him screamed as a chill crawled down his spine.
”The Masked Altar grants us wisdom,” the horned one murmured. “Now… gaze upon the heavens.”
Only when it touched his skin did he realize it was a mask. And then, it was too late.
Why? Why is this happening? A flash of thought, like the final beat of a dying heart—
”Aa—AAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!”
The stars poured into his eyes. A violet sky unfurled where his pupils once were.
”Wh–who are you!? When did you—NO! Stay away! Don’t come any closer, you monster—no, no, no—STOP, STOP, STOP—!”
Tears welled in his glowing eyes. One fell, tracing down the mask’s edge, and then the flood began—
”OooooOOOOOHHHH—ROOOORRRRRRROOOOO—!”
He was no longer human. The sacrifice had become a vessel, and from it, the summoned spring overflowed.
The masked man sank soundlessly into the shimmering pool forming beneath him, falling, falling, endlessly—until there was nothing left but rippling water.
A spring had appeared where dry stone once lay—clear, bottomless, impossible.
”O Lady of the Lake,” the leader whispered, “grant us your moonlit guidance.”
The pool caught the moonlight, reflecting it like a living eye.
”…Lord Roldi. Your report?”
Silence followed. Roldi stood motionless, like time itself had frozen around him.
”Brigante,” he said at last.
”Brigante? What is that?”
”A unit of humans. Roughly three hundred adventurers. Not official soldiers—resistance fighters, formed to oppose us. They’ve joined under a man they call the Golden Count, and are advancing toward Dayrid.”
”I see.”
”Curious. The captive claimed to be part of the Count’s scouts.”
”A lie in part,” Roldi said. “He hid the rest.”
The Demonkin exchanged amused looks, quiet laughter rippling between them.
”Their leader is Klock Livorno—husband of Hero Anna, and one of the Brave Knights.”
”What? A Brave Knight…?”
At that, every expression froze. The name Hero drained the mirth from their faces.
”Lord Roldi?”
”Yes. A grave situation indeed—or perhaps, an opportunity.”
”Report it to Lord Bandanzine. After the northern princess Hermine, another blessed one has appeared.”
They departed. When they were gone, the spring vanished, leaving only dry stone behind—as if nothing had ever happened.
* * *
”Haa… haa…”
A shadow hid among the shipping containers. The moment the Demonkin disappeared, she exhaled, trembling.
What was that? That man—he was absorbed. That mask—it drank him. And something else… something unseen was there too.
She pressed a hand over her mouth, willing her breath silent. Through the cracks in the planks, her eyes—wide and wet—watched the place where the horror had happened. She bit her knuckles to stop her teeth from chattering.
Terror consumed her—not the fear of battle or pain, but something deeper, older. That mask—it had carved its image into her mind.
What now? I shouldn’t have followed. Shouldn’t have tried to play hero. There’s no escape—monsters all around. And that thing…
Did the mask take his memories? They know. About Brigante. About the captain.
No time to think of others now. If they catch me, torture would be mercy.
She knew the weight of her own bloodline— knew it meant nothing here. She had already watched her family die: Father, mother, brothers, sisters—executed one by one.
If they capture the princess of the fallen kingdom, Liona, they’ll feed her to the beasts like scraps.
I have to escape. That man they called Roldi—he’s the one who destroyed us. I have to get back. I have to tell the captain what’s coming.
Notes:
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Primlena – Orange-haired merfolk priestess, fierce yet elegant | First v8c3 | Sister of Sea General Primjune, subordinate to Primrity | Once captured and violated by Klock, now obsessed with reclaiming honor | Commands Obsidian Riders on giant fish, fights with trident | Seeks to drag Klock to Seabed Temple for marriage trial or execution | Unique note: revenge-driven siren bride who masks fury under ritual grace
• Primrose – a female Merfolk and mayor’s wife of Dayrid, instrumental in maintaining the town’s false allegiance to the Demon Lord’s Army to protect its citizens, seeking Sanctuary’s aid against the impending threat.
• Bandanzine – They are one of the Four Heavenly Kings, appeared as a warrior with a dignified gaze, known for their frontline combat prowess.
• Fit – Solo archer adventurer; first appears at Barreith volunteer gathering, introduces herself to Klock and group, joining Brave Knight against Demon Lord’s Army
• Ada – Female. Ada the Wild Wind. An A-rank adventurer. Her appearance is striking, with black hair mixed with fiery red, multiple earrings, and an axe spear as tall as she is. She is incredibly strong and fast, with a Unique Skill called the ‘Blessing of the Wind’ that enhances her speed and agility. Ada is ruthless in combat but shows a surprising willingness to negotiate. She is highly respected in adventurer circles and feared by criminals. Her relationship with Klock is adversarial, as he stole from her and escaped using trickery.
• Alard – a male squad leader under Ada, openly hostile toward Klock, dismissive of outsiders, and quick to undermine Klock’s authority, yet a capable fighter in battle.
• Raki – a male burly warrior and squad leader under Ada, voicing concerns about the risks of engaging the Demon Lord’s Army, loyal to Ada’s group.
• Clea – younger dog beastkin sister who also serviced Klock previously.
• Deena – A 21-year-old unmarried woman. Her appearance is that of a beautiful woman wearing black mourning attire. She is grieving the recent loss of her father in a maritime accident. Deena is the older sister of Elide and is initially mistaken by Klock for a widow.
• Roldi – A male subordinate of Bandanzine, executes orders efficiently, tasked with commanding forces in Orrid and coordinating the invasion strategy.
• Anna – The legendary Hero, chosen to defeat the Demon Lord. Her past life is Sylvia Croce. She is described as a heavenly being with overwhelming skill and a merciless attitude.
• Hermine – Daughter of the Emperor of the Second Empire of Dusselhelm. A companion and friend of Anna. The mage. She is pragmatic and encourages Anna to focus on her duties as a hero rather than her personal revenge.
• Liona – a female princess of a fallen kingdom, hiding and fearing capture by the Demonkin, her survival tied to Brigante’s success.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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