Chapter 53: The Demon Lord’s First Game

Lema had been carving a polyhedron made of pentagonal faces.

“Would you like to see it? It’s almost done.”
“Yeah.”

It was a regular dodecahedron.
Even drawing its unfolded net would be difficult, yet here he was, carving one straight from wood. From the skill in his hands, it was clear this wasn’t the first time he had made one.
“It’s a dice.”
“Dice?”
“After inscribing symbols on it, we would roll it and decide the day’s training method. Inevitably, some trainees would slack off or quit halfway, so we added an element of fun to keep them engaged. It was a traditional practice unique to my family.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes… actually, it goes back even further. They say it was passed down long before my house became a family of Holy Knights—back when the name Valkite meant nothing. Whenever I needed focus, I thought of this. When I manifested the Apostle’s power through this method, it brought me great joy. Ah, not that it was random like a true dice roll—it just meant I had to be prepared for any outcome.”

As he carved the symbols, Lema explained carefully. Each symbol carried meaning—one stood for fire, another for earth…
“We divided training into twelve categories. Each time, we used this dice. Even in tests, we rolled it to check whether we had mastered everything thoroughly. Since you never knew which one would come up, you had to be prepared across the board. Unless you relied solely on luck, there was no skipping anything.”
He chuckled sheepishly, adding:
“Of course, most of us ignored the training and just used it as a toy. It was originally meant for play, after all. Still, as I thought about restarting my training, it reminded me of those days, so I made one again.”

Bel stared at the symbols for a while, then said:
“It must have been easy to awaken your powers that way.”
“…That’s true. In fact, I wasn’t the only one who manifested abilities this way. From the first head of our family who introduced it down to me, and even some of the other trainees… several of us gained powers. For Apostle candidates, that was considered an extraordinary record.”

Excitedly explaining, Lema grew nostalgic and sighed.
It had been devised to make harsh training bearable—seemingly simple, but it was a gesture of care.
Condensed into a dice, it carried not just drills but also a philosophy of how their ancestors once viewed the world. A whole worldview encoded into one object.
Now that the Valkites were gone, though, it held little meaning.
“…I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Sensing Bel’s lack of interest, Lema wrapped up the subject. He was about to suggest they get moving when he noticed Bel staring fixedly at the dice.
“What is it?”
“It’s my first time seeing one.”
Lema blinked.
“You mean this kind of training method?”
“Both.”
“You’ve lived for countless ages, haven’t you? And yet you’ve never seen dice before?”
“Correct.”

Bel’s gaze stayed on the object.
“As you said, it’s for games. No one would summon me with something like this. People don’t call on gods of play to beg for something grand, after all.”
No one would summon her just to say, play with me.

Belmias had always answered great determination—noble wishes, or desperate hatred.
Never had anyone summoned her over something so trivial as boredom.
No matter how long she had lived, Bel had always been revered or feared. At best, treated as a mysterious being that granted wishes. But never a playmate.
“…So you’ve never played before?”

Bel nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Lema, however, looked taken aback. Not that he hadn’t suspected, but it wasn’t something he had ever thought about.
“I just played. We rested while searching for my summoner.”
“That’s not what I mean by play…”

After a moment’s thought, Lema asked Bel to wait, then quickly carved a simpler cube out of wood.
A regular six-sided dice.
Using his blade, he scorched numbers into each face—six numbers in all, a much simpler dice than before.
“Watch.”

He rolled it. The dice came to a stop at 2.
“Now you try, Master.”
Bel hesitated, then took the dice from his hand and copied the gesture.
The dice rolled. 1.

Seeing the result, Lema laughed.
“You lost.”
“Lost?”
“Yes. The lower number loses.”
“…The chance of me losing should have been low.”
“That’s what makes it fun.”

Lema drew a simple board on the ground, dividing it into squares. He picked up two small stones and set them on the board.
“This one is you, and this one is me. Each turn, we roll the dice and move that many spaces.”
Bel listened carefully and followed the rules.

After rolling lower numbers several times, Bel subtly tried nudging the dice to change the result. Lema burst into laughter.
“Master, even you can’t cheat. No touching once you’ve rolled. That’s the rule. That’s what makes it fair.”
“Hmm.”

They played a while longer. At one point Lema chuckled:
“It seems you don’t have much luck in games, Master.”

For someone who never lost in physical battle and who could answer any question about the world with ease, seeing his master struggle like this was a first.
“Ah—we’ve wasted too much time.”

They had only played a few rounds of simple board games after breakfast, but the sun was already high in the sky.
Strict habits had always governed Lema’s life, though slavery had broken them for a time. But even so, he had never lost track of time playing before—let alone with his god. He felt a little embarrassed.
“We should go. If we’re to register for the arena, we mustn’t be late.”
“What about this?”

Bel pointed at the dice left behind on the ground.
“If you like it, keep it.”
“An offering?”
“No, not an offering. One doesn’t give offerings to a playmate. It’s more of… a gift. Though it feels presumptuous to call it that.”
“…No. It’s fine.”

Bel picked up the dice and slipped it into her coat pocket. She seemed pleased.
Lema’s chest stirred at the sight. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. After a moment of thought, he instead asked a different question:
“When you don’t have a summoner, Master… what do you usually do?”
“Nothing.”

When unbound, Bel did nothing. In a world where no one needed her, where no one called her name, all that awaited her was meaningless time.
“The longer I stay awake without a summoner, the worse it is for humans. If they don’t feed me offerings, disaster follows.”
“…I see.”

If left awake too long, she would eventually go berserk. Hunting humans, feeding on them. Until finally she became nothing more than one of the age’s monster legends.
After enduring that cycle again and again, Bel had chosen slumber instead.

Lema recalled everything he had seen from Bel.
For her, the summoner was everything. Lema himself was only a tool to help find that person. Had she not needed Lema’s help, she never would have bothered to take him in.

At first, their only task was to gather information on the summoner.
Now that they had it, they were heading toward where the summoner might be.
And once they found them, Bel’s next steps were obvious.
He would ask about the true meaning of their wish. If it really was the end of the world they desired, then Bel would grant it.

And when that time came… perhaps Lema would no longer be needed at all.