My Status as an Assassin Obviously Exceeds the Hero's

“Darion Synk, why don’t you say that one more time?”

All ten pairs of eyes seated at the long table — a table that could easily feed dozens — turned to Darion at once.

Darion had been made to sit in the low seat nearest the entrance, not his usual place. Across the table, sitting in the highest seat, was a man whose gaze met his directly. Flanking that man were the heavyweights who decided the Demon Clan’s future.

This was the Demon King’s Castle.

It lacked the ominous atmosphere many humans picture for a demon lord’s stronghold. True to its name, it was the largest and cleanest fortress in Demon Clan territory, and in practice it existed simply as the administrative center for the Demon Clan.

Come to think of it, I’d once seen a human’s illustration of a demon king’s castle — a place where it looked like no one could rest — and there was no way the demon lord would live in a spot like that. I have to admit, demons aren’t viewed the same way as humans. And yet there are always oddballs among demons who want to meddle with other races like the Human race and the Beastmen. It’s troublesome.

“So, yeah, I let him get away. The hero, you know.”

Even though there were a fair number of people present, the room fell silent and Darion’s casual “sorry about that” echoed through it.

The situation was actually tense, but Darion’s mind was calm. For the Demon Clan — especially for those gathered in this room — killing the hero was the top priority. So they had sent the strongest available among them, Darion, who could read minds and would still be effective even if the hero managed to flee. Letting him get away was the sort of blunder that could cost one their position. Still, given the circumstances, Darion was convinced it would have ended the same no matter who had been sent. Besides, Darion never lost his composure no matter the situation.

“W-why are you so carefree!? Didn’t we decide the hero must be killed before he sets foot on this continent?! You could be executed for this!”

Blythe Otto — the shortest-tempered man among them, sitting closer to the entrance — shouted. He sounded bewildered because Darion’s failure must have looked irreparable even from Blythe’s perspective. Typical of someone who disliked me but cared about his comrades.

The others watched the situation with looks part reproach, part worry. Apparently I wasn’t entirely disliked after all.

“No, even if Mahiro or the demon lord had gone, it would’ve been impossible in that situation. …At that time, the Elf princess who was on that ship with us formally became the divine child. You know, the one Aurum tried to capture before and failed. If the ‘divine possession’ happened without any preparation, even the demon lord wouldn’t be able to handle it…”

In this world called Morrigan, the only being called a god was Aitel. Mythologically there might be other gods, but none of them interfered with this world to the degree Aitel did.

Aitel observes the entire world at every moment; we cannot interfere with the god from here. But there’s one method by which the god can interact with us: those who possess the skill to converse with the god are called “divine children.”

The Demon Clan had known for a long time that princess Amelia was a divine child. But for whatever reason — whether she refused or simply hadn’t awakened — Aurum’s checks showed she hadn’t really manifested as a divine child. Even while Amelia was alive, divine children had been born and died in the Yamato Country. That led demons to whisper that maybe Aitel had abandoned Amelia, or perhaps favored her enough to indulge her whims. Given that the god hadn’t reacted even when many Elves who worshiped Aitel at the Sacred Tree died from labyrinth flooding, the former seemed more plausible. Amelia’s revival magic had ultimately kept the death toll at zero, but normally one would prioritize removing the cause of a problem rather than curing its effects after people had already been fatally wounded.