Vol 3 Chapter 42 – Garon Vermillion

When I finally regained my original self, I felt a presence behind me.

“…Hey, all that muttering is creeping me out. You done playing by yourself?”

“! W-Who is it?”

“What the hell, you’ve got some nerve forgetting your teacher’s face after only a single month.”

I tossed aside the Wilson I had been hugging without realizing it and raised my head. Standing there was my cute teacher I hadn’t seen in a while, Garon-san.

Because an order had come down saying I didn’t need to lock up anymore starting today, I apparently hadn’t noticed her walking into this wide-open jail cell.

“A-Aha, Garon-sensei, it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, clench your teeth.”

“Wait, wait, let’s talk! I know I’m late with my greetings and I’m sorry for that, but—!”

“There’s that too, but there was one thing I absolutely couldn’t forgive.”

“W-W-W-What would that be?”

“…You, this, y-y-y-you… you lolicon bastard!”

The arm she pulled back as she said that was laden with unmistakable murderous intent. If that hits me dead on, I’m definitely going to be turned into mincemeat, I thought, unconsciously diving to the side to dodge the incoming fist.

“Don’t you… dodge!”

“Hawawawa.”

Ba-bam. A sound echoed from somewhere near the back of my head.

I had barely managed to roll out of the way, but that second fist she brought down from above cracked the stone paving, slightly tearing up the surrounding ground.

This is insane.

Garon-san straddled my body as I lost my balance, already in a position to deliver a lethal blow.

“I’ll let you off the hook with just one punch! Take it quietly!”

“W-W-Wait a sec, what did I even do!?”

“Shut up! I heard it from El, about your perverted acts!”

“P-Perverted acts!? I have no idea what you’re talking about! It’s a false accusation, a false accusation!”

“False accusation!? Don’t use complicated words! The evidence is right there!”

“What evidence! This is absolutely a misunderstanding!”

“Y-Y-Yo-Yo-Yo-You…”

“What comes after ‘You…’! Stop being so vulgar!”

“Shut up, you idiot! You, you kissed El! I heard it straight from her mouth!”

“Kiss… A kiss!? Why does that count as a perverted act!”

“She’s still only fourteen, you know!?”

“I just gave her a light peck on the forehead!”

“The forehead, you say! The forehead… The forehead?”

“The forehead.”

“Not the lips?”

“The forehead.”

“…”

“I gave her a little peck, just barely brushing her forehead, but…”

“…”

Garon Vermillion is the only daughter of the Vermillion family, whose progenitor is the great Fenriswolf.

She was raised being told this by her father:

“Live more proudly than anyone else.”

And she was raised being told this by her mother:

“Never forget your chastity.”

The young, pure, and slightly thoughtless child, Garon, pondered this.

What exactly was pride?

Since her father said it himself, he must surely be a proud man.

“Father, what does it mean to be proud?”

“It refers to being like me.”

Saying that, her father let out a booming laugh.

I see, very easy to understand.

Then, what did it mean to be chaste?

If her mother spoke of it herself, she must surely be well-versed in what chastity was.

“Mother, what in the world is chastity?”

“It means you must never give your lips to anyone other than the person you marry.”

Saying that, her mother smiled gently.

I see, very easy to understand.

Just as she was told, Garon watched her father’s figure and learned what it meant to be proud.

When eating meals, be as dynamic as possible, and eat as much as you can eat.

When sitting on a sofa, open your legs as wide as possible, drape your arms over the backrest, and make your body look large.

When sitting on the ground, there is no option other than sitting cross-legged.

Spreading out a handkerchief is absolutely out of the question.

When she wore skirts, her underwear would naturally show, which was embarrassing. But, I see, her father didn’t wear such things.

Skirts and the like must be the ultimate items far removed from pride. Thus, I… no, ore, swore never to wear one again.

The girls from other noble families wore frilly, effeminate clothes, but that must surely be an act of having lost one’s pride.

It is lamentable, but one must not consider them on the same level as the proud Vermillions.

Surely, those girls must have some unavoidable, noble circumstances of their own.

Holding fast to the convictions she had acquired, she grew up healthy and strong, without catching a single illness.

Around the time she had internalized the pride she learned from her father enough to show it off to those around her, the screams of “I’m sorry, Mom, please forgive me” and her mother’s angry roars of “Because you always say unnecessary things” could be heard night after night. Surely, there must have been some inescapable misfortune residing in her home as well.

She had no idea what kind of misfortune would reduce her proud father to such a state, but if it was her father, the head of the Vermillion family, he would surely be able to overcome it someday.

Even she, who believed this so fervently, realized it once she reached a certain age.

This might be a little different.

Perhaps being proud meant something, well, entirely different.

But she realized it too late.

She learned once again from her father what it meant to be truly proud, but the mannerisms she had already acquired never faded from her behavior.

All the girls around her wore cute clothes, and deep down, she felt a confusing sentiment—perhaps she wasn’t entirely free from admiring them—but her established habits rejected even the imagination of wearing such things herself.

It wasn’t quite cross-dressing, but unisex, clean-cut, light clothing became the basis of her wardrobe.

Even so, just once in front of a mirror, she had held a dress up against herself (the caretakers used to bring it out every day, but she had stubbornly refused to wear it, so she had never actually put it on).

She still remembered how the familiar caretaker had wept tears of joy when Garon asked her to bring it out.

The caretaker had even said she was going to report it to her mother.

On that occasion, what kind of trick of fate was it?

It was a cute, frilly blue dress that her mother had continually altered to match Garon’s growing frame, praying to see her daughter wear it someday.

Just as Garon was holding it against her body and looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror, her beloved and respected father happened to walk by.

“That doesn’t suit you at all, Garon! Gahahaha!”

She had emulated her proud father and lived her life never once showing an effeminate side.

Despite her youth, she undoubtedly understood what it meant to be truly proud.

But, in that moment.

Even she didn’t understand it herself, but feeling tremendously rejected, she felt the sensation of liquid stroking her cheeks—a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

She also felt an unfamiliar heat behind her eyes.

After that, Garon never wore frilly or ruffled things again.

Her womanhood had already been wounded.

Even if she later learned that Lord Vermillion, known as the “Fang of the Previous Demon Lord,” had been half-beaten to death by his wife and daughter’s caretaker, begging for forgiveness in tears, her feelings were never healed.

To make a long story short, she is, in essence, pure.

Her roughness was never cured, but just like her father’s teachings, she had fully inherited her mother’s teaching to “be chaste.”

Naturally, she possessed age-appropriate knowledge, but to her, a kiss was a sacred thing.

As to whether a “peck on the forehead” should be tolerated, her rationality decided that, for the time being, it should be permitted.

Nine narrowly escaped with his life.

“What, you should’ve just said that from the beginning.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak!”

“It’s fine, you’re alive, aren’t you. What a petty guy.”

Gahaha, she laughed.

She laughed.

If one is human, they laugh when they are happy.

If she’s laughing, does that mean she’s happy right now?

“…Hey, Garon-san.”

“Hm, what?”

“Are you happy right now?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure I’m happy right now. But I was wondering about you, Garon-san.”

“…”

“I’ve officially become the Demon Lord’s servant. From now on, I want to kill more and more humans and be useful to everyone in the demon race. This is a happy thing.”

“…”

“I was able to become comrades with you and the others, Garon-san. I’m happy, I’m so happy.”

“You’re an idiot. No mistake about it, you’re a first-class idiot.”

…What did she just say?

“No one goes around blurting out that they’re happy. Because they’re scared it’ll run away.”

“…?”

“The only ones going on and on about being happy are the ones who realize they aren’t.”

“That’s not true. Because I’m happy right now.”

“Don’t underestimate my nose. Right now, you’re reeking with the stench of a miserable bastard.”

“…”

“First off, wipe that creepy smirk off your face. I’ll judge whether you’re happy or not after that.”

“I’m smiling because I’m happy.”

“…Idiot. Do you think you can just keep deceiving yourself like that until you die?”

“Deceiving myself? I’m an honest man.”

That’s a lie, though.

“Listen up, I’ll spell it out for you. If you can’t understand this, I can’t acknowledge you as a comrade anymore.”

“…What is it, exactly.”

“Stop forcing yourself. If we’re comrades, speak your true feelings.”

“…Forcing myself?”

“…Yeah. You’re forcing yourself.”

“…Where?”

“Everything. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your scent, all of it, everything is saying so.”

“I’m not forcing anything.”

“You are.”

“I’m telling you I’m not.”

“Since when did you start talking to me without honorifics.”

“Shut up.”

“…That’s right, isn’t it. You’re a human. You hate demons, you hate us, don’t you. That’s your true nature.”

“Shut the hell up. I love all of you. Keep spouting that bullshit and I’ll kill you.”

“…”

“Why are you quiet. I love you. Are you doubting my love? Wanna die?”

“…”

“Can’t argue with that? There’s no way Tia-sama’s words are wrong, is there?”

“…”

“I love you. Garon-san, I love you.”

“You’ve lost it. You’re insane.”

“Madness comes with love. I’m so crazy about you I’m head over heels. I love you, Mother.”

“…I’m not your damn mother.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a human, why would a beastkin like you…”

—Ah, this is bad—

…Wait a minute, come to think of it, Tia-sama wasn’t human either.

Garon-san isn’t human either. Obviously.

Then where did my mother go?

Where? Mom, eh, where are you.

Where did you go. Don’t leave me alone.

Because, being alone is -ful, isn’t it.

Even Tia-sama couldn’t stand being alone, so she made me…

“Listen closely, you crazy bastard! There’s no one in this Diabolo who trusts you. Because you’re a human!”

I feel, like, she just said something that can’t be taken back.

“U, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

“Even if you say you betrayed humanity, there ain’t a single person here who loves you.”

“L-Love, love doesn’t seek anything in return! That’s fine, just shut up!”

“Idiot, the world runs on give and take. No matter how much you keep throwing your twisted love around, it ain’t gonna do a damn bit of good!”

“No, you’re wrong, I, I just, I love, love all of you.”

“Liar! What you’ve got isn’t love! Say it! Say you absolutely despise us!”

“No! Stop it, don’t, I’m…!”

“…See. You’re full of forced lies.”

—Nine, it’s about time you pulled yourself together. If you keep this up, it will be too late, you know—?

“…Ahaha.”

“You get it now? You’re a contradictory mess. You’re gonna break at any second.”

“Ahahaha, ha.”

This is bad. I thought Garon-san was just a little girl, but I’m way more of a brat.

To fall apart over something like this, haha, just how fragile was my heart…

“…nt to?”

“Eh?”

“—ed?”

“Huh?”

“If you miss it next time, I’m not saying it again. Do you want to be loved?”

Do I want to be loved.

Tia-sama told me to love.

She never told me to be loved.

“It’s about what you think. Think for yourself, and decide for yourself.”

What I think. Did something like that ever have any value?

It did.

I decided myself that I wanted to avenge everyone.

That’s why I made a promise to Tia-sama, and decided to love the demons.

What do I think?

Something like that.

“I wanna be loved.”

“…I see.”

“Garon-san, I want to be loved, love me, please love me…”

“…Is that. Your true feeling?”

“Uwe, yeah… I can’t take it anymore, please believe me, why, because, there’s no one else here…”

“…”

“Everyone, everyone died, and I killed so many humans too, I-I can’t go back anymore…”

“…That’s right. You killed your own brethren. You’ve become completely alone in this Agusta.”

“Being alone is no good. I can’t endure being alone…”

“Then.”

She gripped both my shoulders so hard her claws dug in, looking straight into my eyes as she spoke.

“I still don’t get all this stuff about love. But I’ll acknowledge you. Only me.”

Her eyes shone brightly, like those of a beast reflecting the moonlight.

Garon Vermillion is proud.

Her genuinely ingrained pride made her re-recognize the man before her, who had spoken his true feelings, as a comrade.

It was precarious, but that very trait was what made the Vermillions famous as the most deeply loyal of all, and without that pride, she would not be herself.

However, she was a woman.

Though repressed, this fact could not be changed.

Her true essence, which had been mocked and forgotten in the past, now reacted unfavorably to the thoroughly weakened human male before her.

Though highly unusual for beastkin, who revere strength as nobility, she felt a certain emotion rear its head toward the physically inferior man named Nine.

Although he still hadn’t shed a single tear, this man, who could only be described as effeminate, had exposed his inner self to her—a side a male should never show. And the female within her reacted to it.

In other words.

—”Don’t I need to be the one to stay by this man’s side?”

Had the repressed woman within her sprouted in the form of motherhood?

And perhaps, toward a man who hadn’t explicitly stated he hated her despite all her instigation, the realization that his feelings might stem from a sliver of affection for her birthed an indescribable emotion within her. This might have been one of the greatest misfortunes of her life.

“Hey, Nine.”

“…Yes…”

“When it’s just the two of us, call me Mom.”

“…Is that, okay?”

“…Yeah.”

“Th-Then, I have a favor to ask.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“…Umm.”

“I said speak.”

“Please let me suck your boobs, Mom.”

“Idiot idiot! You really are an unbelievable idiot!”

—And, blooming alongside a motherhood resembling a pale pink wood sorrel petal, was something else within her.

Compared to the aforementioned sensibility, which is one of the most noble things a woman can possess, this was something terribly venomous, yet like a black rose that ceaselessly captivated others—something that had sprouted during her conversation with Electra.

Though roses have various flower meanings, a rose with black petals means this:

—”You are mine.”

It was something so dreadful that it transformed the foul-mouthed, yet uncharacteristically pure werewolf girl into something entirely different from the person she was yesterday.

From a certain point on, she made it her daily routine to converse with Diabolo’s only human comrade at night.

And it was always done out of the public eye.

However, as a side note, there was one day when the Prime Minister, Aroma Sugesta, questioned her about why she was constantly fussing over her chest area. Though her face turned red, she somehow exuded a fleeting glimpse of erotic allure.

—But, a snake is something that lies in wait.

—I can’t endure being alone. I want you to love me—

—Yes, Nine. Those are your true feelings. There’s no mistaking it—

—But, that is also something I taught you—

—The deepest, darkest depths of your heart. That is where I reside—

—Little puppy. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bewitch that child too much—

—I won’t forgive you next time—