A Demon Lord’s Tale: Dungeons, Monster Girls, and Heartwarming Bliss

all for that? Why would any normal person be all the way out here!? Do you know how dangerous this damned place is!?”

Well, there goes plan A.

“Alright, sure, whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes.
“But you know what? It doesn’t matter what I am.
Because you need my help.”

Directing my gaze at the injured members of their group caused the warwolves’ expressions to twist in bitter vexation.
None were as far as being on the verge of death, but some were damn well close.
Individuals with deep, open gashes and missing limbs could easily be made out amongst the crowd.
I suspected that they would likely die of blood loss if left untreated.

“I can get you somewhere safe so you can treat all your buddies.
All you gotta do is follow me.
Either that, or you can sit around and watch them die.
I don’t really care either way, so it’s all on you.”

If they trusted me, they would also get the added benefit of reuniting with Lyuu.
I wasn’t planning on truly abandoning them even if they chose to err on the side of caution.
I couldn’t do that.
Not to Lyuu’s family.
My backup plan, which I admittedly was reluctant to go through, sounded like a major pain in the ass to pull off.
It entailed joining my pets in hunting down all the monsters in the area to ensure the warwolves’ safety. Like, come on guys.
Just trust me.
I really don’t want to have to resort to Plan C.

It was impossible for me to know whether my intentions had gotten through or not, but fortunately, the warwolves had at least chosen to consider my proposition.
After a brief period of discussion, a rather young looking man stepped out of the crowd.
His eyes, sharp as those of a wild animal’s, remained trained on me as he spoke.

“Can we trust you?” He spoke in a tone that carried with it a sense of strength and dignity.
It alone was enough to tell me that he was a warrior, and likely one of high birth.
“You already know I’d answer with a yes either way, so honestly, I don’t think what I’m about to say matters,” I said.
“But yes, you can, and should, trust me.
It’ll be what’s best for you.”
“…Fine.” After a brief moment of hesitation, he agreed.
“Men, lower your arms.”
“Come on, boss! You don’t have to do this! We can still go on!” shouted a warrior.
“Thank you.
You’re all very reliable, loyal to the bone,” said the warwolves’ leader.
“But far too many of us have been injured.
We will need rest if we wish to push on.”
“…Right.
Got it, boss.”

The leader’s judgement was not challenged any further.
The pack immediately began following his orders by lowering their weapons and assisting the wounded.

“So you’re the warwolf chief?” I asked, appraisingly.
“That I am.
I should introduce myself.
I am Vergillus Gyroll, leader of the Gyroll Pack,” he said.
“Thank you for your help.”

A quick peek at Vergillus’ character sheet confirmed that he was both their leader and the strongest of their warriors. He’s even got himself a fancy title.
“Chief of the Warwolves,” huh? That’s pretty cool.
Wait, that totally makes him Lyuu’s dad, doesn’t it?

Question marks began floating around in my head as I reached the conclusion.
It just didn’t make sense.
Just looking at him, I wouldn’t have expected the warwolf chief to be anywhere past his twenties. Weren’t chiefs all supposed to be older men? Apparently not, I guess.
Welp.
There goes that trope.

Wait, wait waiiiiiiiiit a second.
Let’s do some quick math.
Lyuu’s seventeen.
If he’s thirty, then that means he’s gotta have been banging chicks since he was twelve.
Or thirteen or at the latest.
Holy fuck.
He got laid when was thirteen!? Nononono, that can’t be right.
He’s probably just baby-faced.
Yeah, that’s gotta be it.
I’m willing to bet that he’s actually thirty five and just looks like he’s still in his twenties.
That’d mean he had her when he was eighteen.
Yeah, that definitely sounds way more plausible.

…But what if he isn’t?

…

Alright, you know what? Fuck this. I’mma just assume that he’s thirty five and stop caring.

“So does that mean you’re Lyuu’s dad?”
“You know my daughter!?” The warwolf’s temper suddenly flared up at the mention of the less successful of my two maids.
His expression contorted into one of violent rage.
“Then you must be the Wicked Forest’s Demon Lord!”
“Yup, that’s m—”
“Curse you, Demon Lord! Consider your life forfeit!”

Oh, come on…

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