Chapter 101: Annoying Companion

The Demon King was said to rival God in power—both destruction and creation. Could he not hold his own against a single Apostle? Having finished the thought, Ion asked Bran.

“Would the Holy Sovereign or Holy Knights recognize Baba as the descendant of the bat the Demon King commanded?”

“Those Elida-crazed lunatics don’t even have the Demon King’s portrait left, so they wouldn’t know. Why bring up those crazies all of a sudden?”

“I’ll meet them first, then bring Baba to your place afterward.”

“You’re meeting those lunatics? Why?”

To contact [Sadness], and because the Earth-connection dungeon appearing in two weeks was near Idelfin.

And… while I’m at it.

“I think I’m part Celestial. I want to find out.”

“…! What the hell! You’re a Celestial? You dared deceive me?! With that innocent face…!”

Bran instantly retreated to the corner, furious.

“I never deceived you. I only found out recently. Anyway, the Holy See comes first for these reasons.”

Until now, Ion had never been curious about his origins. When the orphans huddled together wondering about their parents, Ion stayed out of it. “Family” had always felt like a luxury residue didn’t deserve.

Nothing had changed. He was still residue—just residue from somewhere on Earth that became residue from somewhere in the Celestial Realm. But…

Why did the Sadness Apostle take me from the Celestial Realm and give me to Teacher?

There was no way to know without meeting Sadness or going to the Celestial Realm himself.

Bran declared he would accompany Ion.

“I finally found a clue to the Demon King’s revival, and a Celestial has it? And you’re heading to the Celestial Realm? As the Duke of the Idea-resident demons, I cannot stand by. I will supervise you!”

Baba fiercely protested traveling with the “bad guy who tried to kidnap me,” but Ion accepted the companionship—for the information Bran had on the Demon King, and for Baba’s protection.

The Celestial Realm and Demon Realm were not on good terms. According to Bran, the Demon King had once colonized the Celestial Realm. If anyone at the Holy See, close to the Celestials, recognized Baba as the Demon King’s cherished pet, Baba would be in danger. Bran would be an excellent bodyguard.

They boarded a ship together and left the island. Ion quickly realized Bran was far more useful than expected.

“What? Camping? Bullshit! The word ‘camping’ doesn’t exist in my dictionary.”

At 202 years old, Bran had created various identities a hundred years ago while living among humans, complete with ample funds for each. In short, he was rich.

Ion had money from Sara and Killia, but not enough for luxury inns every night. He had planned to sleep rough from now on. Thanks to Bran, he slept on soft beds in lavish rooms every night.

“What? Ride horses? How long would it take on those slow beasts!”

One of Bran’s identities was a mage scholar affiliated with a Magic Tower. The Illiand Empire had portals in every territory usable only by Tower mages and scholars. Ion made full use of Bran’s credentials to cut travel time.

And…

“Dam Ion, I’m hungry.”

“Bran, Baba’s hungry.”

“…Damn it!”

Bran was also perfect for babysitting Baba.

“Why the f*ck did I ever become Duke and have to do this shit? I’ve never served anyone in my life… Haah. Baba-nim, open wide. Gotta brush your teeth too.”

“Aaah—”

Despite the rough swearing, the way he wiped a sprawled-out Baba with a handkerchief after meals was gentle and meticulous.

Five days after reaching the mainland, they arrived at a small imperial village bordering Idelfin. Without portals, riding horses non-stop would have taken ten days.

“What’s this? A festival? So many people.”

Bran looked around curiously. The village was lively from the entrance—bards playing folk instruments, people marching in colorful festival attire, yellow and red lanterns, flower decorations, the smell of roasted meat and sweet liquor. Everyone’s faces were bright, the mood electric despite the early-evening chill.

“With this many people, every inn must be full. We camp tonight.”

Ion turned without regret, but Bran grabbed his shoulder.

“Human, why are you always in such a rush? I hate camping. We haven’t even checked if there’s a room.”

“It’s obviously full. No point wasting time.”

“Just! Wait!”

Bran strode to the village entrance and immediately flirted with passing women.

“Hey, ladies?”

A tall, handsome man over 190 cm with tan skin, blond hair, and black eyes smiled. The women stopped, giggling.

“We don’t have such handsome guys in our village. Northern continent? Pilgrim?”

“Yeah. Idelfin pilgrim, with my little brother over there. What’s today? Looks like a festival.”

“You’re late to the news. Hehe. Sara Harunda recaptured the Vilund stronghold yesterday. Only one giant stronghold left in Idea now. How could we not celebrate?”

Ion heard it too.

Sara’s on a winning streak.

Good news, but still in the middle of a war… yet the mood was as if the war had already ended. If word spread that a young dragon had joined, people might treat the war’s end as a foregone conclusion.

“Wow, that’s great news. Let’s all give thanks to Lord Elida who protects us.”

Bran shamelessly clasped his hands toward the sky.

“But that means every inn is booked, right? My little brother’s young and delicate—he can’t handle camping. What to do… Are you locals? Know any place with a free room?”

“Our village lives off pilgrims, so normally there are plenty of inns, but with the festival, tourists flooded in from everywhere. You should’ve checked earlier.”

“Ugh, really? Trouble. Guess we camp…”

“Well… um…”

The women exchanged glances.

“There’s an inn that only takes pilgrims for religious reasons. It’s probably empty. It’s a bit shabby and down an alley, but we can guide you if that’s okay.”

“Anything’s better than camping! Just walls and a ceiling. We’re about to sleep under the open sky with bugs for pillows. We’re not in a position to be picky.”

“Right? Follow us.”

The women led them to the inn. Bran winked at Ion—See? I knew the locals would know a place. How’s that for competence?

It was a devoutly run pilgrim-only inn; they had to pray and sing hymns with the owner before entering the room. Two low beds in one room. Until now they had taken separate rooms, but tonight they shared one.

“Hey, I’m going to eat with the girls who guided us. You?”

“I’ll eat separately.”

“Knew it. I’ll be back before sunrise, so don’t leave first. And don’t come looking for me—just stay put.”

In the two villages they’d passed through, Bran had partied all night with the locals—men, women, young, old—returning at dawn with the same line:

“Tch. Primitive humans have such low standards of beauty, but this body is just too exceptional. A face humans never see in a lifetime—so everyone clings to me. So annoying.”

Today, his vanity and human-disgust quota filled, Bran left the inn grinning.

“Dam Ion, I hate that guy. He wants to abandon me. Let’s abandon him and leave. Let’s ditch this place.”

As soon as Bran was gone, Baba whispered its daily abandonment pitch.

“No. Eat your mana sulfur.”

Ion handed over mana sulfur; Baba immediately started nibbling. Ion sighed and pulled out his own hard bread.

Ion couldn’t sleep until near dawn. Apostles, the Celestial Realm, the play and its protagonists, God… What was happening on Earth that Jinseongha and the orphans had gathered at the orphanage… Too many things to think about.

Too dangerous to write down. He sat at the desk, eyes closed, lost in thought. Naturally, a headache followed. Just as he was about to press his forehead to Sanse’s leaves…

“…”

With a here we go again face, Ion opened his eyes and swung the staff leaning against the desk.

“Argh!”

Bran, approaching with demonic energy wrapped around his fist, screamed and collapsed.

“Ow, f*ck! You hit a person with a mana-infused staff? My head almost split open!”

“You were trying to stab me in the back while I was off guard.”

“Then get stabbed just once!”

“Shut up, Bran.”

Baba flapped over and landed on Bran’s head. Bran froze solid.

“How many times is this? Dam Ion, ditch him. I recommend abandonment. Abandon.”

The bat stomped on the back of Bran’s head, urging abandonment. Ion moved to the bed and held out his hand. Baba hesitated, then flew over and settled.

Ion kneaded Baba—it was the perfect size and texture for kneading. Lately he’d been doing it almost as often as rubbing his cheek on Sanse’s leaves.

“Can’t abandon him. We have to go together, so stay in here.”

Ion tucked Baba into the breast pocket of his robe. Baba poked its head out and glared at Bran.

All the way here, Bran had attempted sneak attacks whenever he could, only to be blocked by Ion. It wasn’t about kidnapping Baba anymore—it was about landing one hit on Ion. That was why Ion kept Baba in his robe pocket. The demon blood in Bran’s veins screamed kneel before the bat, so as long as Baba’s face peeked out from Ion’s chest, Bran couldn’t even think of attacking.

Ion glared at the stumbling Bran.

“Time to give up, don’t you think?”

“I told you on the first day.”

“Told me what?”

“Demons are a warlike race. Even if superiority is established, they challenge endlessly. That’s what makes us demons.”

“But you said you were different from ordinary demons.”

“I thought I was. Turns out I’m not. When the one who defeated me is right in front of me, my blood boils. The demon blood inside me is screaming to take revenge… Heh heh…”

“Bran, be quiet. That’s an order.”

“…”

Bran shut his mouth. The demon blood inside him had apparently ordered him to shut up too.