B2 Ch 97 - How to Act Like a Demon [Bonus]

Zarvok, Zarvok, Snuk, Caelan.

Jester continued walking with uneven, almost careless steps, following the group of demons ahead of him. Yet, for some reason, his thoughts had already begun drifting toward other things. Things that were not particularly important, though somehow, when he thought about them again, they seemed oddly important after all.

It was mainly because he had just encountered a demon with a name that... Well, perhaps because it was a demon's name, Jester needed a little time to get used to it.

Like Zarvok. What kind of name was that?

He was fairly certain no human had a name like that, either inside this game or in the outside world.

Or maybe someone did? It was pretty random, honestly.

But when it came to creatures like Demons, not all of them actually had names. More precisely, when a demon possessed a name, it usually meant that the demon had already reached a higher position in their hierarchy compared to the ordinary ones.

If Jester had to compare the demon hierarchy with something that already existed in Yunatea, then the easiest comparison would probably be the Knight hierarchy.

Like: Page Knight, Squire Knight, Knight, Knight Commander, Royal Knight, and finally, Imperial Knight.

Demons had a hierarchy that worked in a fairly similar way. Their ranks went from Lesser Demon, Demon, Demon Warrior, Demon Commander, Demon General, and finally, Archdemon.

The positions of Knight Commander and Demon Commander, for example, carried similar levels of authority and responsibility, with only a few differences between them. That was why it was actually quite easy to compare the demon hierarchy directly with the Knight hierarchy.

And usually, it was only demons who had reached the rank of Demon Warrior who were granted names of their own.

So, if there were already ten Demon Warriors here… That was basically the same number of Knights Caelan had possessed when Jester first took over the body of that foolish prince.

Only ten Knights. Just how stupid, pathetic, and low-ranking had Caelan actually been back then?

And yet these ten Demon Warriors were being used as nothing more than patrol guards.

There were still hundreds more demons stationed throughout this relatively small outpost camp alone. And this place was not even the main target of tonight's attack.

Jester dragged the long-handled axe along the ground with his left hand, letting the heavy blade scrape behind him as the demons continued their journey. Not a single moment passed without one of them complaining, grumbling, or throwing out some furious curse.

"Damn that traitor! Cursed bastard! What kind of demon would stoop so low as to deceive their own kind? Disguising himself, sneaking into our territory, and attacking us from behind? When I find him, I'll rip his body apart!"

"I don't give a damn about that traitor! I want those idiot humans! I'll kill every last one of them myself. I'll tear their limbs off and make the survivors watch before I crush their skulls!"

"I've been holding myself back since we left the camp! How much longer are we supposed to keep walking around like this? Just point me at something I can kill already!"

"I'm fucking starving! Can we hurry up before those greedy bastards finish our food rations? I need to eat something before we slaughter those humans. I'm not fighting on an empty stomach again!"

Jester listened to all of it while continuing to drag the axe behind him.

Should he start grumbling and shouting meaningless angry nonsense too? Was that what he was supposed to do?

Well… Eventually, he decided to join in.

"You idiot demons! All you've done since we started walking is complain, complain, and fucking complain! Can all of you shut your mouths for one damn minute?! Your whining is making my head hurt!"

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Jester shouted the words in a deep, booming voice. The effect was immediate. The other demons turned their heads toward him. One. Two. Three.

Jester stared straight back at them.

"What the fuck are you staring at?! Point those stupid eyes somewhere else! Keep them on me for another second and I'll gouge them out with my fingers and shove them down your throat!"

One of the demons abruptly stopped walking.

The demon behind him crashed straight into his back, but he did not care. He turned around and marched toward Jester before grabbing him violently by the throat.

"You've got a loud mouth for someone as pathetic as you, Zarvok! Don't think I haven't noticed how weak you've become! One fucking slash from that traitor and you were already bleeding all over yourself! You can barely drag yourself back to camp, and now you think you can threaten us?!"

Jester bared his teeth.

"Get your filthy hand off my throat. Right now. Or I'll cut yours open and leave your head hanging from the scraps of flesh still attached to it."

"You fucking dare..."

"Enough!"

Another demon roared at them, his voice loud enough to silence both of them.

"Stop this useless shit! We don't have time to stand here fighting each other like brainless Lesser Demons! The Commander is waiting for us! If we're late because you two idiots decided to measure whose claws are bigger, I'll personally tell her exactly who wasted our time. Now move your asses before all of us get punished because of you!"

The other demons growled in response, some baring their teeth while another spat onto the ground. The demon gripping Jester by the throat gave an even deeper growl, tightening his fingers for a moment.

"Keep barking, you useless bastard. Being wounded must've knocked whatever little sense you had out of your skull. Next time, I'll let that traitor finish you instead of dragging your worthless ass back with us!"

He finally shoved Jester away and released his throat.

Jester clicked his tongue and straightened the armor covering his chest, pulling the displaced plate back into place. He gave the demon one last threatening glare before gripping his axe again and continuing forward with the others.

Strangely enough… He actually felt surprisingly relieved.

There was something satisfying about shouting at the top of his lungs, throwing curses around, and threatening someone without needing to think too much about what came out of his mouth.

Especially when the ones receiving those curses were these idiot demons. Apparently, swearing at demons was a rather effective way to relieve stress.

After that, they continued deeper along the path. Before long, distant shouts began reaching Jester's ears. Angry voices overlapped with harsh laughter, arguments, metallic clanging, and the occasional roar of demons calling out to one another.

The outpost was close. This was the first time Jester had dared to come this close to it. He never would have risked approaching the place before the Harvest Mask skill happened to let him take over this demon's identity.

And now that he could finally see the outpost clearly… It was less impressive than he had imagined.

The entire place was essentially a rough collection of camps spread across a wide patch of scorched ground. Crude tents made from dark hides and thick cloth stood everywhere, arranged with little concern for neat rows or proper roads. Wooden stakes and crude barricades surrounded parts of the perimeter, while several watch posts had been built higher than the rest of the camp.

Large fires burned between the tents.

Some demons gathered around them, roasting chunks of meat over open flames, while others sat nearby sharpening weapons, repairing armor, arguing, or simply resting. Smoke drifted throughout the outpost, carrying the heavy smell of burnt meat, ash, and something Jester did not particularly want to identify.

And there were Demon Warriors everywhere.

Most of them wore armor similar to his own. Dark metal plates covered their chests and shoulders, though the exact shapes varied from one demon to another. Some carried axes, others swords, spears, or weapons Jester could not immediately recognize.

Jester and the other nine demons entered without hesitation, quickly blending into the crowd.

Even after arriving, they did not stop complaining. They kept shouting the same things again and again, cursing the traitor, insulting the humans, and loudly arguing about who should be the one to tear them apart.

Like a bunch of completely brainless creatures incapable of discussing anything that did not involve killing someone.

"A traitor!"

The crown-horned demon roared at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of several nearby demons.

"A fucking demon claimed to be a Commander! He fooled us, then attacked us! That bastard cut down Zarvok and ran like a coward! Find him! I want that false Commander found!"

More angry voices immediately erupted around the camp, but the uproar did not last long. One by one, the surrounding demons fell quiet as their attention turned toward the largest tent at the center of the outpost.

Someone was coming out.

A figure stepped through the entrance of the central tent and into the firelight. Almost at once, the furious voices around Jester began to die down.

Jester stared at the figure who had just emerged and somehow drawn the attention of nearly every demon in the outpost. The moment he got a proper view of her, he swallowed.

This one looked incredibly... brutal.

"I know what you're thinking, Your Highness," Shade's whisper suddenly reached his ears. "So this is the kind you like?"

"Don't make assumptions," Jester whispered back.

"So you do like this kind, Your Highness," Michel's voice joined in this time. "But I still think mine are bigger than hers."

"You two have completely misunderstood what I'm thinking. Get that idea out of your heads," Jester whispered back.

He quickly ignored them and focused his attention on the figure now standing among the demons.

Even without anyone explaining it to him, she was clearly above the others in the hierarchy. The way the surrounding demons reacted to her presence alone made that obvious.

This had to be the Demon Commander of this outpost.