Became the Villainess’s Guardian

Although not the highest-ranking officer, General Andre bore two stars, and within the military establishment, none outranked his effective authority.

And this position was not achieved through sheer happenstance – he was no naive individual to be readily swayed by a foreigner’s mere words.
Had he proven so gullible, he would never have attained his current standing.

“Very well, let me hear your proposal.”

Yet there were two reasons behind his receptiveness towards Edan.

One pertained to the imminent crisis confronting Belfast.

Historically, several routes had existed for Demonic Tribe invasions against humanity. Unlike the past when nations had been scattered, these paths now converged upon territories ruled by the Republic – an unfortunate coincidence.

The general well understood that in any war against the Demonic Tribe, they would undoubtedly bear the initial onslaught.
Need one look further than the previous war, when the Glassgow Kingdom had leisurely observed from the rear as Belfast’s borders became a bloodbath?

Ultimately, the regret lay with him. If they had extended an initial overture, there would have been no harm.
While Edan might have been a mere wandering magician, he was a renowned Glassgow prodigy admitted to the esteemed Royal Academy at a tender age. At the very least, his words carried weight.

“Thank you for making the time.”

“Not at all. The council has also expressed willingness to explore closer collaboration, should the opportunity arise.”

And the second reason:

Despite his military clout, in this civilian-controlled Republic rather than an outright military junta, he could not simply disregard the council’s directives.

And the general had received thinly-veiled pressure from certain councilors along these lines:

‘Please endeavor to cooperate with any initiatives undertaken by the Glassgow Kingdom. Should we eventually confront the Demonic Tribe, their support will prove indispensable.’

Thus far, understandable sentiments.

‘However, to avoid appearing subservient while retaining a degree of dominance, would it not be prudent to defer to Magician Edan’s counsel to some extent?’

‘Yes, as long as it aligns with the Republic’s interests. But please heed Magician Edan’s words as much as feasible.’

Regarding this aspect, even General Andre could not help but furrow his brow.
Did they possess some leverage over the councilors? No, even if so, could a single individual truly sway an entire nation?

It had deviated beyond the realm of mere courteous deference extended to an eminent Glassgow personage.
Perhaps more profound undercurrents lurked beneath – treading carelessly could prove perilous, reeking of insidious intrigue.

Yet what choice did he have? Unless they intended to stage a coup like the Londinium Demonic Tribe, he would have to comply.

Hence, while General Andre had initially proposed this meeting solely to assess Edan, his perspective gradually shifted as the twelve-point presentation unfolded:

“They will handle transportation duties, including munitions and supplies for the frontline troops.”

“Not merely transportation. With additional armor plating for increased durability, they could serve as mobile fortresses.”

“I see. While I shall need to witness them firsthand, if your claims prove accurate, they seem well-suited for achieving our strategic objectives.”

Offense, and more offense.
Relentless advances against the Demonic Tribe, fueled by the conflagration of human lives.

The unbridled, self-assured offensive espoused by the previous hero, leaving no room for surrender or retreat.
If not infantry charges but colossal iron behemoths spearheaded such assaults, replicating the imposing cavalry charges of antiquity through magitech might…?

‘Formidable, indeed.’

As a former cavalry officer himself, Andre found the concept particularly compelling.

Thus, an hour into the presentation typeset in a twelve-point humanist font,
the flames kindling within him akin to any Belfast officer had been thoroughly stoked into an inferno.

Of course, Andre retained enough prudence to avoid immediately placing bulk orders with Ceres Martop before assessing the actual products. Yet the mere prospect of potentially witnessing something matching or exceeding his imagined manifestation signified a certain sway.

If Ulr was the combat specialist against the Demonic Tribe, Freugne could be deemed the authority on Demonic Tribe psychology.

She was confident that, knowingly engaging Demonic Tribe members in dialogue, none could match her conversational endurance.
Should such an individual exist… they would undoubtedly be traitorous human informants, undeserving of humane treatment.

Seated in the dimly lit periphery, Freugne addressed the still-disoriented, squirming Demonic Tribe members:

“Shall we converse?”

“Who are you? Have we met before?”

“My identity is irrelevant. Let us commence.”

Her comprehensive understanding of Demonic Tribe culture enabled her to steer the dialogue, employing the metaphorical carrots and sticks that resonated with them.
None could match Freugne’s adeptness at eliciting desired responses while deftly dismantling their inevitable dissembling.

“I can roughly surmise your intended activities in Antrim. After all, a similar incident occurred in Londinium, did it not?”

“Our intentions were merely to gather information about humans.”

“It seems this conversation may prove rather protracted. Yet an easier path exists – why insist upon the arduous route?”

As emissaries to the Belfast capital, their silence was assured.

Sighing lightly, Freugne familiarly segregated the five Demonic Tribe members into individual chambers, informing them that their subsequent treatment would depend on their forthcoming responses.

The prospect of potentially enduring a lifetime of captivity invoked profound dread.
It was no trivial matter the Demonic Tribe could airily dismiss with ‘Well, at least I retained my allegiance’ and a nonchalant jellyfish snack.

Though his status had diminished after residing in Antrim, Hubert, who had assumed a leadership role among this contingent, tightly shut his eyes.

‘There will be no reinforcements from our homeland. It is over.’

While he had mentally prepared for their eventual exposure, he had not anticipated such swift apprehension.
Nor had he foreseen concluding his Antrim sojourn as a menial laborer with such futility, having envisioned at least instigating citywide chaos or abducting humans as a final defiance.

Coughing dryly, Hubert inquired:

“What do you intend… by detaining us like this? Since you clearly have no intentions of releasing us, I can at least surmise that much, can’t I?”

“Did you truly expect me to divulge our plans so readily, only to face inevitable betrayal later – the cliched villainous role?”

“So you have nothing to say?”

“…Nothing.”

“Really? This is your final opportunity.”

“Even so, I shall not betray the Dark Lord who has placed such faith in me.”

“Ah yes, you mentioned encountering the Dark Lord. No inclination to discuss that?”

“Of course not.”

While his comrades had begun confessing after a couple of hours, Hubert’s unwavering loyalty was remarkable.

As their presumed leader, he may have possessed higher-quality intelligence.
Yet lacking Londinium’s unlimited resources, Freugne had no choice but to gradually ‘persuade’ him over an extended duration.

“I shall respect your choice. Then I suppose this is where we conclude matters, as you wished.”

“Wait.”

Though four other Demonic Tribe members remained, as Freugne turned to depart, Hubert called out to her.
Wondering if he had reconsidered, she glanced back, meeting the Demonic Tribe member’s glazed eyes.

“What is it?”

“……”

“Hold on. Something seems amiss.”

Ulr’s brow furrowed, sensing an ineffable disquiet he could not articulate.

Hubert then slowly parted his lips. His eyes, tinged slightly red not from magic but bloodshot strain, had acquired an unsettling fixation and sharpness.

“…You seem to think you comprehend everything.”

“Not everything, but a considerable amount. Are you dissatisfied with that?”

“No, merely an observation that such confidence suits you.”

Freugne now shared Ulr’s unease.
There was an abrupt, almost jarring transformation. His cadence and demeanor had subtly shifted, his previously resigned demeanor vanishing without a trace.

A scenario even the psychologically-versed Freugne had never witnessed.
Yet instead of retreating, she stepped closer.

In truth, yes –
Freugne acknowledged her own overconfidence, having foreseen her safe return to the hotel that evening. What was there to fear?

This did not imply recklessness, however.
Complacency born of future knowledge could potentially alter that very future.

As evidence, she had undertaken the utmost precautions:

The Demonic Tribe members were tightly bound, immobilized in their chairs.
Having been pummeled into exhaustion by Ulr, they posed little immediate threat – an excessive countermeasure, even.

Ulr remained on standby for contingencies, while Freugne donned the pinnacle of psychic deflection devices their current magic could fashion.
Thick masks concealed their identities, distorting their voices should any chance to escape arise.

“Suits me, you say?”

“Yes, such confidence befits your capabilities, does it not?”

“…?!”

“I wonder how far that confidence shall carry you.”

The instant Hubert’s eyes seemed to glimmer ominously, Freugne instinctively raised her crackling palms – evidence that her vigilance had not waned.

“The Dark Lord sees and knows all.”

“He’s attempting something!”

“I know…!”

“All humans shall kneel before the Lord, but you shall be granted the privilege of humbling yourself first – Aaaarrggghhh!!”

While wearing psychic protection, subduing any hints of hostile magic proved the safest recourse.
Before Ulr could swing his club, Hubert’s theatrical speech was cut short by debilitating electrocution, eliciting agonized wails.

As the convulsing Hubert’s movements gradually stilled, Ulr lowered his weapon, remarking:

“More underwhelming than anticipated.”

“……”

“Freugne?”

“…Ah.”

-Thump

And as Ulr raised his gaze, he beheld Freugne collapse lifelessly to the floor.