Barfight

Editors: Sebas Tian, Speedphoenix

"Whaddya say to using this bar as our meet up spot?" I asked. "'The food was pretty damn good."

"That's a great idea," said Nell. "I really liked it too."

Nell and I finished discussing the details of our arrangement over an amazing dinner. I ended up giving her two orbs of correspondence, magical items that facilitated long-distance communication. Unfortunately, they weren't capable of something as complex as enabling chat. The orbs came in pairs, and each orb's primary feature was to cause the other member of its pair to glow whenever magical energy was channelled through it. In other words, it was more of a remote doorbell than it was a cellphone.

They were, however, still far superior to other forms of communication. Quickly relaying large quantities of information over a long distance was a field the world I had reincarnated into had yet to really explore. A part of their relative convenience stemmed from their size. The orbs were slightly smaller than tennis balls, which made them easy to carry around.

Moreover, it was possible to compensate for their lack of an ability to send and receive messages or make calls through other means. The reason I had given Nell a pair of orbs was because I wanted to make sure we could send different types of messages. That was why the two orbs I had given her were different colours. One was white, and the other was red. Making the white orb glow indicated that we just wanted to get in touch. The red orb, on the other hand, indicated that there was an emergency.

Obviously, there being an emergency meant that we probably wouldn't be able to head all the way to the bar just to figure out what was up. That was where the enchanted device's secondary function stepped in. Each orb was able to vaguely denote the location of its pair, which meant Nell and I would be able to come running to each other's aid if one of us was to ever find ourselves in trouble. Neither of us had many allies in the demon realm, and thus, we agreed to help each other out as much as we possibly could. Heh. The hero's power is mine! This'll probably help a bunch with the whole safety issue. Nell's probably thinking something similar. Now this, this is what we call a win-win situation.

There were two minor problems with the whole orb system we had going on. The first was the fact that the orbs had to be kept out at all times. I couldn't just shove them in my inventory and forget about them like most of the other junk I had in there. But again, it was much more convenient than having to go through the trouble of tracking each other down every single time we needed to talk.

The second problem had less to do with the orbs themselves than the people using them. Nell's court mage friend started to mess around with the pair that I had given them with bloodshot eyes. Dude. Chill. I don't mind you fiddling with them, but like, can you please at least try not to break them? They cost a good bit of DP, and I really don't want to have to spend any more. Speaking of curious people, Ms. Incarnation of Philomathy over there is looking pretty damn calm. But only because she already had her fill of messing with it earlier. That said, she still seems pretty interested in them so I guess I'll just let her hold onto ours or something. So yeah, Leila. That whole don't break them thing? Totally goes for you too.

"Oh and… uhmm… about that ring you're wearing…" said Nell in a questioning tone.

"Oh, that?" I paused for a second in order to contain my embarrassment. "Lefi gave it to me."

"Does that mean what I think it does…?"

"Yeah. Lefi and I got married."

"M-m-married!?" stuttered the hero.

"That's a bit of a weird reaction." Seeing her act all flustered and confused led me to force a smile.

"W-When did that happen?"

"Shortly after I got back from the capital, so it was actually a pretty recent event." I said.

"I-I see…" She stared fixedly at the accessory for a good bit before continuing to stutter. "I-I knew you two were close, but I didn't know you were that close."

Her voice seemed to be tinged with a sad air of loneliness and despondency. I didn't quite get why, so I opened my mouth to ask—only to be interrupted by a loud bang right before I could.

The bar's front door had been kicked wide open by a bunch of mean-looking men. They strutted right in as if they owned the place, one after another as they cackled in a manner that no decent person could. I had a pretty good view of the entire establishment from my seat, and as a result, I could easily see just how much attention the group grabbed. Every single pair of eyes turned towards them the moment they made their way through the door. Someone sure seems popular.

"Is that who I think it is?" asked a customer.

"Aye, it's Gej and his guys," replied another. "They've been pretty active lately. The bastards do whatever the fuck they want and act like they own every place they visit."

The bar's clients were speaking in whispers, but my sharpened senses allowed me to easily overhear their conversations regardless. It turned out that my initial assumption was correct. The guy in question was infamous. He was the kind of person everyone knew for all the wrong reasons.

"Where the fuck do you think you're looking?"

One of the men who everyone's eyes were on began shouting the moment he noticed that he and his buddies were getting attention. Getting involved with the group seemed like a suboptimal choice and most of the customers didn't quite seem interested in trouble, so they turned their heads away and forced their gazes elsewhere immediately.

"Tsk…" The man clicked his tongue before turning towards the guy the group was centred around. "I think the place is ready for you now, sir."

"As do I," replied his boss.

The boss' appearance was weird, to say the least. He was muscular, but in a way that made his body almost seem unnatural. He almost looked like a prop, specifically the kind people left in laboratories and classrooms in order to aid newcomers in the study of muscle groups and other aspects of the human body—just with a thin layer of skin on top. I wouldn't have been surprised to find out that he was actually just a mass of muscles with a consciousness doing its best to emulate the human form. And that wasn't even the strangest thing about him. Oh god, what the actual living fuck!?

Bossman and his lackeys moved through the bar, waltzed up to the second floor, and plunked their asses down in their seats without a hint of grace.

"Where the hell is the waitress!? Woman, get the fuck over here and stop wasting our fuckin' time!"

"R-right away, sir!"

A waitress with fiend-like horns and a fiend-like tail dashed over the moment the men started shouting for her. I couldn't help but pity her. Poor girl. Man, the service industry fucking sucks. I know exactly how it goes. Most people are at least decent, but you're pretty much guaranteed to run into entitled assholes like them at least once a week. Feels bad man.

"If my memory is to be trusted, Gej is the son of one of this country's dukes." My maid relayed me a few key bits of information via whisper as she continued to direct a cold glare in the group's direction. "His authority is further backed by a significant degree of personal strength. And as such, he has the tendency to follow his whims while disregarding the desires of those around him. He is not exactly the type of man the average citizen considers well-liked."

Oh, I totally know that trope. It's the whole retarded son born with a silver spoon shoved up his ass and whatnot. Though in his case, it might have a little more to do with his uh… personal circumstances than his upbringing. He must have turned out the way he did because people were too afraid to say anything about it given his authority and whatnot. You know what, I almost pity him, 'cause this looks to me like it's pretty much a textbook case of the Emperor and his "new clothes." I mean, I know it's totally not any of my business, but I feel so bad for him that I kinda want to point out the fact that he may as well be parading around the town with his junk hanging loose.

After a bit of internal debate, I ended up coming to the conclusion that someone needed to speak with the kid before it was too late. And since no one else was going to do it, that someone had to be me. With that in mind, I got to my feet and slowly started moving towards the man and his buddies.

"Huh? W-Wait! Yuki!? What are you doing!?"

Nell seemed to think I was planning to start a fight, so she started shouting in an attempt to stop me. You got it all wrong, Ms. Hero. I'm not hurting. I'm helping.

"Hey," I called out to the men as I approached their table.

"What do you want?"

One of the poor, pitiable man's lackeys responded to me in an obnoxious tone the moment I voiced my presence, but I ignored him. I looked right past the underling and made eye contact with his boss before stating my business.

"Dude, you, me, we're both men. I get it. I totally know how you feel." I spoke in the most compassionate, concerned, and inoffensive tone I could muster. "But some things are just beyond saving. You really need to get yourself some wax or something."

"What…?"

The man clearly didn't seem to understand me. He was so confused I could almost see a group of question marks floating right above his head, so I stopped being as vague and started speaking in more concrete, easy to understand terms.

"I'm talking about your hair, man. I'm a man too. I know the struggle. It sucks. It stresses you out, and the stress only makes it worse. It's an endless cycle where all you ever do is slowly lose. But it's time to let go. You don't have to just keep desperately clinging to what little bit you have left. Sometimes, you just have to accept the inevitable. It's okay, bro. It's okay. I understand. We all do."

I continued to focus my eyes on the crown of his head, the source of my pity, as I spoke. The reason I couldn't help but feel bad for the man was one that all men could understand. Though he was still young, the duke's son was already balding. Chronically. He had already lost all the hair that was supposed to go on top of his hair. It was gone, gone with the wind and never to return. But for some odd reason, the hair that grew on the side of his head was still thick and bushy.

That alone was enough to make me feel sorry for the poor kid, but it wouldn't have been enough to prompt me to give him the talk. My problem with the scenario was how he was wearing what little bit he had left. I didn't know if it was because he was desperate, or if it was because he felt like he needed to do something out of a sense of rebellion, but either way, the oddly muscular young man had intentionally done his best to show off the bits of hair that he had left. He was so desperate that he had the long hairs that decorated the sides of his head french-braided into pigtails. His hairstyle reminded me of the Chinese queue. The only difference was that he had two of them, and they were on the sides of his head as opposed to the back.

It was a terrible, hideous sight to behold. I was convinced that the man's hairstyle had drawn more eyes than his rude, flashy entrance, that his notoriety must have at least in part stemmed from how dumb he looked. A single glance at him was enough to justify any number of chortles and spit takes. The only reason I hadn't broken into a cackle was because he had taken it so far it wasn't even funny anymore. It almost looked to me like an expression of self-harm, like he was using his hair to tell the world that he was running a knife across the street a few times each night. Exaggerated self-harm jokes weren't funny. Taking suicide-related gags too far made them nothing but cringy.

For a while, the man continued to stare at me with a blank look on his face. There was an awkward pause as he tried to process the combination of my pitiful gaze and the words I voiced. And then, only after a long moment of silence, did he finally understand what I was trying to say.

He slowly turned red and his veins began to bulge as he slowly rose from zero to his boiling point over the course of a few seconds.

"How dare you! Men, kill him! Lynch this impertinent peasant immediately!" he shouted indignantly.

"Huh?" I blinked a few times as I was overcome with surprise. "Wait, what? Why!?"

What the hell!? All I did was point out the fact that his hair's fucked! Is it really that much of a sore spot!? Like, come on, he has to know already! I wasn't even trying to make fun of him! I literally put it as nicely as I could!

As I was unable to get through to the bald guy, his lackeys immediately sprang up and began demonstrating their loyalty by coming at me. Although I was fairly panicked, I managed to evade their strikes and slowly retreat back towards the table I had been sitting at while raising my hands in a display of nonaggression.

"Hold on, hear me out," I said. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you or anything. Just, looking at you makes me real sad. I couldn't help but try and help you."

"Do not let him escape under any circumstances! I'll have you fed to the arena's monsters if you dare!"

"Wait, why'd that make you even angrier!?"

Understanding these youngsters and their short fuses is beyond an old man like me! Not that I'm actually old enough to really be justified in saying that kinda stuff, but whatever.

"Geez! Why do you always have to be like this!?" shouted Nell.

"What do you mean!? How was that supposed to be insulting!? I was literally trying to help!"

"My Lord, I believe a… quick lesson is in order," said Leila. "The man you addressed is a member of the muskle demon race. The helmets their ancestors wore in combat mandated such a hairstyle, and as such, it has been passed down as tradition. Many amongst them still wear it to this day."

"Bruh. You serious?"

"As unfortunate as it is to say, My Lord, I am," replied the maid. "Or as you would put it, 'I'm totes serious bruh.'"

Though modern slang wasn't exactly what one could call prolific given the less than modern nature of the world I had reincarnated in, my frequent use of it had long allowed Leila to pick it up. Wait, so you're telling me that he did that to himself because he wanted to? He actually wanted that cringy ass hairstyle? And he's not balding!? You've gotta be fucking kidding me! Though, now that I think about it, topknots used to be a thing a few hundred years back. I mean, me and most other modern people would find them weird as hell, but samurai rocked that shit all the time. So yeah, with that in mind, french-braided twin tails on a balding man might not really be all that weird after all, huh?

Only after a moment's delay did I realize that I may or may not have done something that I shouldn't. Yeah uhh… my bad. I'd totally be willing to apologize, but uh… he looks a biiiiiit too fired up for that, huh? Well, whatever the case, I can't be backing down. It doesn't look like he's going to forgive me. I can't just give up and let them do whatever either, since Leila's here.

The only choice I had left was to help the agitated group "calm down." Yeah, I'mma do just that and uh… slowly "resolve the misunderstanding" once they've regained their cool.

Man… I really need to stay out of other people's business. I sighed internally as I dealt with the incoming attacks. I grabbed the first man's fist as it flew towards my face and tugged it down and to the side. The sudden change in his momentum left him off balance and out of position. He wasn't able to move quickly enough to avoid the punch that his friend had thrown in my direction.

He groaned as the attack smashed itself into his face and sent him flying with so much force that he ended up plastered against one of the bar's walls. It was a sight that I hadn't really ever expected to see outside of manga and other forms of media, but as far as demon on demon combat was concerned, it was a pretty common sight. Their stats were just that inflated.

"Miguel!" The man that had slugged his friend in the face clicked his tongue. "Damn it!"

I used the fact that he was too agitated to act to tap him in the jaw while making sure to hold back just enough to avoid snapping his neck. The sudden shock to his brain stole the man's consciousness and caused him to crumple to the floor in a sad but calm heap.

Speaking of concussions, you know how everyone who's had them says everything goes dark? Yeah, that's actually pretty accurate. You can still see things, but you don't know what it is you're seeing. You can still hear your friends' voices too, but you can't really tell what they're saying. It happened to me once when I was playing basketball with my buddies. Oh man, shit was spook.

"Take this!"

"Careful with that thing."

One of the men drew the knife he had dangling from his waist as I let my mind wander. He swung it at me, but I twisted my waist and avoided it before he could pierce my flank. I then struck his hand with my elbow and smashed him into a nearby table. The action was accompanied by a pair of sounds. Up first was a loud crunch, one that denoted my attack had crushed the bone in his hand. Following right after was the clattering of his knife as it fell to the ground.

"You should know better than to use a blade in a street fight, dude. That shit could get someone hurt real bad," I said.

I walked over to him while he was still groaning in pain and calmed him down the same way I calmed his buddy down—I hit him in the jaw and knocked the living daylights out of him.

"Don't get cocky, asshole!" A third guy shouted as he approached me from behind.

Glancing over, I found that he was trying to give me a big, warm hug. I wasn't exactly all that keen on hugging it out with another guy, so I ducked to avoid it. Once I was clear, I grabbed him by the arms, rolled him over my back, and chucked him. The judo-like technique sent the man spiralling over the edge of the balcony. Gravity continued to speed him up until the moment his face smashed into one of the tables on the first floor. He screamed in pain as he made contact with all the plates, cutlery, and glassware. Only after a few moments of spasming and shouting did he finally "calm down." O-oh shit. I was trying not to break anything, but uh, there goes that, I guess.

"Damn, brother. You're one helluva fighter!" said one of the other guests.

"An event as interesting as this one calls for another drink!" shouted another. "Barkeep, get me another mug!"

I had been expecting those on the first floor to start panicking and screaming the moment the body suddenly fell on them. That, however, was quite literally the opposite of what happened. The other customers were only continuing to cheer and egg the fight on. Keyword: continuing.

They had immediately gathered around and started playing the part of the peanut gallery the moment I had started talking to the guy with the messed up hairstyle. To the crowd, the fight was nothing but a source of entertainment, a side dish that happened to go well with their booze. I had at least expected the owner to care, but stopping the fight turned out to be the exact opposite of what the owner-cum-barkeeper had planned. Ever a merchant at heart, he had turned the opportunity into one to make bank by getting out his notebook and taking bets on the battle's outcome.

Even the band had bought into the situation. They switched from the nice relaxing tune they were playing to a livelier piece with a faster tempo. Holy shit, dude. Demons have balls. I guess this kinda stuff must happen so often around here that they're just kinda used to it.

My party stood out from the crowd. Unlike everyone else, they weren't cheering or getting wasted. Leila and Enne were calmly observing the situation, whereas Nell and her mage buddy were a bit less so. Both were on guard. They had their hands on their weapons and were ready to draw them at a moment's notice. Sorry for getting you guys involved in this. Especially if it ends up screwing with your plans and whatnot. Like, seriously. My bad.

"How are you all so useless!?"

The guy desperately in need of either a buzzcut or a wig clicked his tongue after watching each of his subordinates get taken down in turn. Having grown impatient, he decided to take matters into his own hands by tearing a leg off the table he was sitting at and entering the fight himself. His braids gently swayed back and forth as he lumbered over. Oh come on, man, what the hell? You can't just break stuff like that. Don't blame me if the owner sends a hefty bill or two your way, alright?

Contemplating the relative cost of a table led me to recall that Braidy was the son of a duke. To him, the table in question was likely nothing more than chump change. I, on the other hand, was actually in trouble. I had broken both a table and a bunch of tableware. Welp. Here's to hoping the demon king'll cover for me.

"Fine. I'll make you regret running your mouth myself!" shouted Braidy. "And unlike those miserable weaklings, I'll make you atone for your insults with death!"

"Man, come on. It was just a misunderstanding and I already said sorry," I said. "How about I treat you to some food and booze and we call it a day?"

"Shut up! Before I make you!"

The man had literally no intention of even trying to listen to me. He disregarded my attempts at making peace and immediately leapt into a running tackle.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Ughhhh. This is starting to piss me off. Come the fuck on… What the hell dude, I've already apologized, and I've even offered to try and make up for it. What more do you want from me? Like, I know that you value your traditions and that they're really important to you because you were brought up with them. And I know that they came from a time where bloodshed was normal, so you're a little bit quick to jump the gun. But like, I've already tried defusing the situation. And the only reason it isn't working is because your dumb ass isn't listening to me. Let me guess. You must be the type of retard that is never satisfied unless you get to beat the shit out of everyone that you don't agree with, so you're not going to let up or shut up until I let you sock my face in. Fucking moron.

More and more resentment started to build up within me as I tried considering Braidy's perspective. But his stupidity failed to make up even half the reason I was as angry and annoyed as I was. The larger issue at hand was the one that had driven me to speak with him in the first place.

"Fuck! I can't take this anymore! Fuck this! There's so much wrong with that stupid looking hairdo you've got that I don't even know where to fucking start!" I dodged his charge, grabbed one of the stupid braids on the side of his head, and gave it a forceful yank as he passed by.

"My hair! My hair!! The pain!" He cried in anguish as the combined force of his momentum and my "attack" caused one of his braids to tear right off, hair roots and all.

"What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you!? What kind of man braids his goddamn hair in the fucking first place!? Have you seen how stupid it looks when you fucking move? It sways! It fucking sways! You know how disgusting that is!? Fuck you! Fuck you for wanting this! Fuck! You! I feel like a fucking moron for even trying to sympathize!"

"Is it just me, or did he just have a total sudden change in attitude with absolutely no hesitation!?" Nell made a retort from the corner of the second floor that everyone had evacuated to.

"Ughh…" Braidy groaned as he rubbed the place where his hair had been just a few moments prior. "H-how dare you! How dare you do that to my hair!?"

"Shut up, retard!" I shouted. "You know what, fine! If you like this stupid looking hair so much, then you can have it right the fuck back!"

I opened up my palm and shoved the hair I'd torn off of him back on his mouth.

"And get the fuck out of here while you're at it!" I spun around and gave him a good old roundhouse kick to the face as I continued to complain. "I don't want to see you or your gross ass hairdo ever again!"

The force of the blow caused him to go flying over the edge of the balcony. He tried to right himself in midair, but hit the ground before he could. The impact knocked him out cold and caused him to go limp.

"Well boys, this match is over!!" I wasn't sure exactly when we had gotten ourselves a commentator, but one of the bar's patrons had apparently stepped up to the plate. "The winner is… the challenger!"

His words caused all the drunks present to break into a series of cheers. I, on the other hand, was still in the middle of complaining about the idiots I had just finished dealing with. Ughhhh… That was a pain in the ass.

"He's over here!"

Correction: the idiots I had thought I was done dealing with.

The shout almost seemed to function as a cue. A large group of mean looking men suddenly flooded into the bar.

"The idiot up there is the one that thought he could get away with picking a fight with the boss! Get him and kick his ass!" The man barking orders was the first I had thrown off the balcony. He had apparently gone to get backup while I wasn't looking.

His orders caused all the other grunts that joined him to momentarily look in my direction before marching towards the stairs. Oh greaaaaaat. Seconds! Yeah, I totally ordered those. Siiiiiiigh… Well, I mean it is actually my fault this time. I guess I'll make up for my mistake by making sure I have all these new friends of mine get sent right home, I guess. Haaaaaaaahh…

I stepped forward in order to dive right back into the fray, only to find that I didn't need to. The bar's other customers had already moved up and gotten in the punks' way. Though many of them were drunk, their eyes seemed to brim with a sort of wild enthusiasm.

"Come on boys, you ain't new to this. This may be a brawl, but it's still got rules," said one of the bar's customers.

"If you want him, then you're going to have to go through us first," added another.

"W-What the hell kinda beef you have with us!?" asked one of the confused punks.

"It isn't beef," laughed a drunk. "But did you seriously think we could just sit around after watching a fight like that? Hell no! Our blood's boiling, brother! And our fists are itching for a go!"

"Oh, hell no! No way I'm letting you get a march on me! These punks are mine!"

"Damned drunks!" The punks seemed to falter in the face of the raw enthusiasm emanated by the crowd.

The situation was an odd one to behold. I couldn't help but feel as if the drunks were actually the bad guys, and the punks were the protagonists given that one group was just trying to be loyal, and the other was actively getting in their way for naught but their own selfish desires. But whatever the case, the results remained the same. The two groups ultimately ended up clashing in a massive melee.

It was a mess. People punched each other, kicked each other, grappled each other, and threw each other all over the place. And it wasn't as if the bar's customers had actually stopped drinking either. They kept pouring liquor down their throats and smashing the empty bottles against the people they were fighting. There was even a pair of guys going around grabbing punks and literally removing them from the store by chucking them out the front door.

The already lively atmosphere, filled with shouts and laughter, was only emphasized further by the band. They had shifted to playing another fast, upbeat song in light of the situation. Dude. What the hell? Is this supposed to be a bar owned by pirates or something?

"So what exactly are we supposed to do about all this?" asked Nell.

The hero and I were standing by the second floor's balcony and looking down on the mess below. Rather, that was what I was doing. She was instead taking the opportunity to stare at me reproachfully. You ask me, who do I ask? Like, seriously. Iunno.

"…" I paused for a moment to contemplate the alternatives. "What do you say we just get the hell outta here?"

"Huh!? You're just going to leave!?" She was completely taken aback by the fact that I was just going to avoid resolving the situation despite being responsible for causing it.

"Hey, barkeep!" I didn't bother answering her. I instead turned towards the bar's owner, who was situated downstairs, and shouted in his direction. "I'm going to leave what I owe you for food and drink over here! Have the guys that got their asses beat in pay for the tables and shit!"

"Sure thing, brother! And good job kicking those brats faces in! Made my day, right there!" he shouted back as he smashed an empty bottle into a random nearby punk and broke into a cackle. "You're always welcome here, so I'll hope to see ya soon!"

Oh, great. Even the barkeeper thinks I was just out for a fight. I know it might've seemed like it, but I really wasn't trying to mess with them or anything. That was all just a huge misunderstanding…

For a moment, I felt awful. All Braidy and his buddies wanted was to go out and have a meal somewhere, but they were subjected to a horrible experience the moment they arrived at their destination. Some random guy came up to them, made fun of their boss, and beat them all black and blue. Wow uh… yeah, that makes me sound like a terrible person, doesn't it? Yeah, yeah, I know. I did something that I maybe, okay, fine, definitely shouldn't have. But whatever. Fuck it, I don't care anymore. I'm a fucking demon lord. Why the hell do I care about what other people want or think? I'll do whatever the fuck I want. Well, with a few caveats since I basically got myself collared and whipped, but whatever. Doesn't change shit. If people start trying to hit me, I'll hit them right back. And if they don't like that, well too fucking bad. It obviously isn't my fault. It's always either theirs or just a case of bad luck. Screw feeling bad about it.

"Alright girls, let's get back to the castle. It doesn't really look like we can get through the door anymore since uh… yeah. So what do you say we take that instead?" I asked as I pointed to one of the windows on the second floor.

"My Lord, I believe a bit of a chat is in order upon our return. Do make some time for it," said Leila with an intimidating smile.

"U-Uhh… don't be too hard on me, alright…?" I could feel myself wince in response to the maid's dreadful aura. Oh boy. "I can't wait!"

"Uhm, Yuki? That's a window," said Nell. "How are we supposed to leave through a window?"

"What do you mean how? A window's still an exit. You can pretty much use it the same way you use everything else," I said before turning towards the pair I was travelling with. "Mind if I borrow you two for a moment to demonstrate?"

"Okay," said Enne.

"Please feel free," said Leila.

The window was already open, so I beckoned the girls over as I approached it. Once we were all accounted for, I picked up Enne in my arms and grabbed her sword form with the same hand. I wrapped my other arm around Leila's waist, placed a foot on the windowsill, and leapt right out. The cool evening air rushed by as I experienced a moment of freefall.

I bent my knees right before I landed in order to direct the force into the ground before standing up and putting both girls down.

"See? Perfectly fine," I said as I turned to face the window. "Now come on, jump! I'll catch you!"

"Uhhh… I don't really know if I wa—Wait! Ronia!?"

Nell looked on hesitantly and even fought back against the idea, but she was the only one. Ms. Court Mage stepped onto the windowsill and leapt out without a moment's hesitation. And she did more than just that. She had jumped out in a way that had left her sideways; she was sure to smash her face right into the ground if I failed to catch her. Damn. She's got guts.

I grabbed her out of the air before slowly letting her down.

"Thanks."

"No problem," I said. "Well, just you now, Nell."

"Ughh…Fine" she groaned hesitantly before finally assenting. "O-okay! Here goes nothing!"

Though her stats were high enough to prevent any injuries even in the case that she fell, she still seemed a bit unwilling given the fact that she was literally jumping out of a two story building, so she closed her eyes, took a moment to muster up as much courage as she could, and jumped.

I gently caught her in my arms as one would a damsel in distress. I had one arm under her thighs and another supporting her back.

"See? I told you you'd be fine."

"Y-Yeah. Thanks," she said. "Wait! Why am I thanking you!? You're the reason I had to do this in the first place!"

"Yeaaaaaaah. Can't say I'm not. My bad."

"Don't you worry, Nell," said Leila. "My Lord and I are going to have a nice, long discussion about his decisions as soon as we return."

"Thank you, Leila," replied the hero. "I hope you'll finally be able to drill some common sense into that thick skull of his."

"Oh, come on, girls. I already said I'm sorry. I could really do without the lecture." I forced a bit of a smile as I let the hero down.

"Aw…" said a disappointed Nell.

"Aw what?"

"N-nothing! Just pretend that never happened!" said the hero. "Anyway, do you think that meeting here is still a good idea after all that?"

"Hmmm…" I deliberated for a moment. "Yeah, I think so. It's the only place we both know. I mean, I'm sure it'd be easy for you to find us if you just hit up the castle, but you don't really know enough people to arrange for anything like that yet, right?"

"Not yet. I'm pretty sure that we would be able to make peace with the demon realm's king based off of what you and Leila have told us," said Nell. "In fact, we might even be able to forge an alliance. But that's not a decision I'm authorized to make, so I'd prefer to stay away from the castle for now."

"Yeah, then I guess this is pretty much the only place we can meet up. I mean, we don't actually have to go inside if you don't want to. We could always just use it as a rendezvous point and head somewhere else after."

"Okay," said Nell. "Then I guess I'll see you later, Yuki! I'll make sure I use the orbs you gave me to get in touch if anything ever happens!"

"Yeah, feel free," I said. "See ya."

With our farewells said, Leila, Enne, and I made our way back to the demon king's castle.