I've been watching my brother's back since the day I was born.
Watching him race around, trying to rebuild the Demon race after they'd been battered and broken by war, war, war.
There was no Demon King.
With the Demon King—who should have been the one uniting the Demon race—nowhere to be found, my brother kept filling that role in her place.
Of everyone I knew, no one had worked harder for the Demon race than my brother.
And then there were those useless fools who badmouthed him just because he wasn't the Demon King.
My brother was not the Demon King.
Because of that, many in the Demon race refused to follow him.
And in the middle of that god-awful situation, some god-awful bastard had the nerve to defy my brother.
Were they out of their minds?
Even someone as thick as me could see that the Demon race had no room for a civil war back then. So why couldn't they?
The Demon race had fallen into utter chaos. The people could barely even find food.
My brother gritted his teeth and held it all together.
And finally, finally, things had recovered enough that the common folk weren't starving anymore.
That was when she showed up.
A woman calling herself the Demon King.
She looked like a kid, and she was a kid on the inside, too.
And yet, my brother bowed his head to someone like that.
A cold, clear part of me—the part separate from the blind rage turning my vision red—spoke up: So this is what it feels like to be consumed by fury.
All this time, it was my brother who had supported the Demon race and served as their guiding light.
And this woman stole everything my brother had built, for no reason other than the title of Demon King.
On top of that, she gathered the very Demon race my brother had desperately rebuilt and declared she would invade the Human race.
Just when, finally, a fleeting moment of peace had arrived for the Demon race.
Peace they had finally managed to grasp.
And this Demon King threw it all away without a second thought.
And my brother followed that Demon King.
I couldn't accept it.
How could I?
That brat calling herself the Demon King and the freeloading white woman who appeared alongside her—neither of them had done a thing.
And yet they devoured our precious food supplies.
Their mere presence was nothing but a liability, and on top of that, they issued orders that amounted to telling the Demon race to go die.
At first, I couldn't understand why my brother was so obediently following that woman's commands.
"Brow. I've told you many times—that person possesses power far beyond anything we could hope to match. If we resist, it's the end of the Demon race. No matter how unreasonable the orders, we have no choice but to obey. Please understand that."
Again and again, my brother tried to convince me with those same words.
I know that.
My brother—the one person who would never follow anyone without good reason—wouldn't just kowtow to someone for nothing.
But just because someone has power doesn't mean they get to do whatever they want, right?
What exactly did we, the Demon race, ever do?
I know that our distant ancestors committed some act, and because of that the Demon race and the Human race have been locked in perpetual slaughter.
But that has nothing to do with us, the ones living now.
Whatever our ancestors did—I don't know the details—why should we, their descendants, have to bear that guilt?
And the Demon race is already on the brink of survival as it is. If we start a war with the Human race now, we'll be wiped out for certain.
The Demon King doesn't understand that.
No—maybe she does understand, and she's doing it anyway.
Maybe my brother has accepted that, and he's racing around trying to minimize the damage however he can.
I'm not an idiot.
I have some idea that the Demon King, despite her tiny appearance, is an outrageous monster.
Even so, I could never bring myself to worship as the Demon King someone who would lead the Demon race to destruction.
At this point, the Demon race has no choice but to win. There's no other way to survive.
We need to minimize casualties and defeat the Human race.
To do that, we'll need to deliver some crushing blow—something that drives the Human race into absolute despair.
And I have just the target for that.
"White. Don't lay a hand on this one."
I call out to White, who's standing beside me.
She's associated with the Demon King.
But thanks to the intelligence she's provided, both my brother and I have been able to get by.
She's a glutton, but turning a blind eye to that is a small price to pay for what she's given us.
White herself and the Tenth Army she commands are probably a unit specialized in espionage and assassination.
White herself uses transfer magic to appear and disappear like a phantom.
She must have carried out all her intelligence work and assassinations that way.
But transfer magic requires a massive number of Skill Points to acquire.
That means she had to sacrifice other Skills to get it.
Her combat ability is almost certainly low.
Aside from surprise attacks using transfer magic, she's probably weaker than any of the other army commanders.
I don't think she could handle the Hero.
I'm about to challenge the Hero.
From the messengers' reports, I know the Hero has been cutting through our forces alongside his companions and advancing toward us.
I have to be the one to take down the Hero.
A record of defeating the Hero—this will be one card I can play against that Demon King.
If we just do nothing and keep obeying everything that Demon King says, the Demon race will eventually be annihilated.
I need to drive a wedge into that, even if only slightly.
Whether I can beat the Hero is honestly going to be tough.
But I can't back down.
The Demon race's future—no, my brother's future—rests on my accomplishments.
"You're the Hero?"
I address him in the language of the Human race.
Before me stands a young man who radiates nobility even on a battlefield like this.
"To think you'd go out of your way to address me in the Human language. That's right. I am the Hero—the Hero,
Whether he was surprised that I could speak the Human language, or surprised that I deliberately chose to, the Hero showed a brief flicker of astonishment before announcing his name.
He had a gentle demeanor, but I could feel a strong, unwavering will in his eyes.
Without question, the bearing of a Hero.
I nod and raise my sword.
"I am Brow, Seventh Army Commander of the Demon race. Hero—let us meet in fair combat!"
"I accept."
With the Hero's agreement, our duel begins.
Strike first to win.
I lunged at the Hero with my sword.
But he caught it easily, and I was overpowered and pushed back.
Tch!
So his raw physical attack stat was higher than mine.
Off-balance, I face the Hero's follow-up attack.
Clashing swords when I'm outmatched in strength is a bad move.
I dodge the exchange and evade the blow.
Then the light that had been wreathing the Hero's blade detached and surged toward me.
I barely managed to block with my sword as a shield.
This is bad.
That was almost certainly some kind of magical Skill.
And from that single attack, I could tell the Hero leaned more toward magic than physical combat.
Both physically and magically, he surpasses me.
Even so, I cannot lose.
As if mocking that resolve, the Hero deployed multiple orbs of light.
You've got to be kidding me.
I could feel the immense power contained in every single one of those orbs.
They all came screaming toward me at once.
If I dodged, they would hit the people behind me.
Behind me stood White.
I discarded the option of dodging.
I braced myself and caught the incoming orbs with my sword.
In that instant, my vision shook.
I couldn't even tell what had happened—I only understood that pain was coursing through my entire body.
That kept happening, over and over.
For just a moment, I lost consciousness.
The instant I came to, I was lying face-down on the ground.
My body was in shreds.
But—!
"Not… yet…"
I forced myself to stand, healing my wounds as I rose.
I can't back down here.
If I fall, who will support my brother?
If I fall, who will be the next to face the Hero?
I cannot fall.
"You should stop pushing yourself. You should have realized the gap in our abilities."
"I haven't lost yet! If I slink back home having lost like this, I won't be able to face my brother!"
I don't need you to tell me—I already know full well what the gap in ability is!
"If you have a brother, all the more reason not to die here, wouldn't you say? Pull back your troops. I won't pursue."
"I can't pull back!"
I can't lose. I can't retreat.
I charge at the Hero.
His magic, his sword—everything blows me away.
And yet, like a stubborn fool, I keep getting back up and charging forward.
Again and again.
I can't back down here.
I won't!
"This is the end."
"Not… yet… I… won't…"
"It's over. I gave you my warning, and you ignored it. And so you were defeated."
A… warning?
There's… no… way… I… could… hear… a… thing… like… that.
"Damn… it… Bro… ther…"
Brother…. White…