The following morning, inside the cramped, dusty quarters that had been assigned to me, I stood precariously in front of a heavily cracked vanity mirror. I tugged awkwardly at the collar of the plain, coarse villager attire native to this world.
My original Earth clothing—a bright tracksuit and modern sneakers—made me stand out in this medieval fantasy setting like a glaringly obvious, ultra-rare monster spawn. That was the absolute last thing I wanted if I intended to survive the week.
"So? What's the verdict? Do you honestly think this looks decent?" I asked, spreading my arms wide to showcase the incredibly dull, brownish tunic.
Sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, Verixa tapped her chin thoughtfully, her demonic tail flicking lazily through the air. "Well… if I am being completely honest, Zacken? It is kinda mid."
I let out a long, satisfied sigh of pure relief. "If it's mid, then it is absolutely perfect. In my situation, being completely average is a divine blessing. I can finally blend into a crowd without triggering a boss fight."
Before Verixa could offer another one of her trademark sarcastic jabs, the wooden door burst open with a loud rattle. Alira stepped across the threshold in a visible panic—only to freeze entirely in her tracks.
"Z-Zacken?" the elf archer stammered, her emerald eyes blinking in rapid succession as she took in my drab, uninspired new look. "Chief Dave sent me to fetch you immediately. He says the human empire's enforcement squad will arrive at the village gates at any moment to collect the seasonal taxes… and the mandatory demon tribute."
"Well, the timing is impeccable. What about the rest of the council?" I asked, smoothing down the front of my tunic.
"Exactly as you instructed last night, we thoroughly explained the operational parameters to the local villagers," Alira said, her tone laced with lingering disbelief. "It was an incredibly difficult sell, but with Chief Dave's remaining political authority… somehow, the citizens accepted the terms."
"Excellent."
Alira hesitated, her fingers nervously wrapping around the strap of her leather quiver. "But… Zacken, will a bizarre plan like this truly function in reality?"
"How on earth should I know?" I shrugged my shoulders with total, unabashed honesty. "I literally copied the entire tactical framework step-by-step from a serialized manga I read back home."
"Ma… manga?"
Both Verixa and Alira tilted their heads to the exact same angle simultaneously, looking precisely like a pair of thoroughly confused house cats.
"Never mind, forget I said anything," I sighed, waving my hand dismissively. "Alira, go help the siblings with the final perimeter preparations. I'll join you guys at the square shortly."
Alira offered a quick, respectful bow and hurried back out into the corridor, leaving me alone with the little queen once more. Verixa hopped down from the mattress, her expression shifting into something unusually serious as she leaned closer to whisper.
"Hey, Zacken… don't you think the logistics of this occupation are incredibly weird? If these humans despise our kind so intensely, why are they systematically collecting currency from a slum instead of just slaughtering the population? And why do they insist on taking exactly one live demon tribute back with them every single season?"
"That is the exact psychological question that's been bothering me all morning," I muttered, my brow furrowing. "Even Chief Dave has absolutely no idea what happens to the tributes once they pass through the human border."
I let out a long, anxious breath, staring at my reflection. "Let's go find out."
A few minutes later, we arrived at the makeshift village center.
The remaining population of Kraven had gathered in a silent, anxious crowd. The moment I stepped into the clearing, the young council members waved at me, and I offered a casual wave back.
"Hey, human! You look suuuper lame for an alleged revolutionary rebel leader!" Siriel shouted across the dirt, her loud voice echoing off the dilapidated huts.
"Yeah, incredibly, spectacularly lame!" Liriel echoed right on cue, giggling behind her hands.
"Hey! Shut your mouths, you two!" Tez barked, promptly smacking the back of both his sisters' heads in a synchronized display of sibling discipline. He then turned to me and offered a deep, apologetic bow. "I sincerely apologize for their behavior, Mr. Zacken. My sisters severely lack basic military decorum."
"Don't sweat it, Tez. I'm used to it," I said, entirely unfazed as I turned my attention to our general. "Valkira, is everything securely in position?"
"Yes," Valkira nodded, her hand resting heavily on the hilt of her sheathed greatsword. "We have prepared the designated chests of tax currency exactly as required. But… regarding the specific demon chosen for the seasonal tribute? You mentioned you would finalize that selection during dinner last night. Have you…?"
Chief Dave stepped forward from the shadows, his ancient hands gripping his wooden staff so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Sir Zacken… please tell me you managed to locate a volunteer among the population who was willing to undergo the extraction?"
I took a slow, deliberate breath, letting the tension build for a brief moment.
"Well… to be completely blunt with you all, I didn't find a single volunteer."
The entire council froze completely solid, the air turning ice-cold.
"So," I continued casually, pointing a thumb directly at my own chest, "the mandatory demon tribute for this season… is going to be me. I'm going to disguise myself, infiltrate their ranks, and trick the extraction team."
"WHAT!!!" the entire gathering roared in absolute, unison horror.
"Hah! I knew it," Ken snorted loudly from the back, crossing his massive scarred arms with a cynical smirk. "Appointing a fragile human as our supreme leader was a catastrophic mistake from the very beginning."
"Hey, human, are you completely stupid or WHAT?!" Siriel snapped, lunging forward. "If the human mages look closely and discover an Earthling masquerading as a demon tribute, they will completely erase this entire village from existence!"
"Yeah!" Liriel added, her eyes wide with genuine panic. "They will literally delete us from the world map!"
Chief Dave rubbed his temples, a deep, exhausted grimace lining his aged face. "Sir Zacken… I apologize for breaking rank, but I must fundamentally agree with the youth. This is far too reckless. The margin for error is nonexistent. It is suicide."
The old chief quickly turned to our highest military authority, hoping for backup. "Ma'am Valkira, surely you must agree that this plan is utterly—"
"Well, historically speaking, if we are specifically talking about him…" Valkira started, trailing off as a smirk crossed her face.
"It somehow always manages to work out in the end," Alira finished the sentence for her, a small, confident smile gracing her elven features.
"Everyone, just relax and trust the chain of command," Verixa announced, stepping forward to stand directly by my side. She puffed out her chest, her crimson eyes flashing with royal authority. "As your rightful Demon Queen, I formally promise—if anything goes horribly wrong during this operation, I will personally take full responsibility for the fallout. So please… follow Zacken's strategy."
Reluctantly, seeing the unified front of the monarchy and the generals, the remaining village leadership offered a series of hesitant nods.
"I appreciate the vote of confidence, guys," I said, rolling up my sleeves. "But before the human enforcement squad marches through those front gates, I'm going to need some serious cosmetic assistance with my disguise."
When the designated meeting hour finally arrived, the heavy silence of the forest was shattered by the rhythmic, synchronized thud of steel-toed boots.
Dozens of heavily armored imperial soldiers marched through the rusted gates of Kraven, maintaining a flawless, terrifying combat formation. They carried shimmering halberds and heavy iron shields, their presence instantly suffocating the small village.
At the very front of the vanguard walked a young woman dressed in an elegant, flowing green priestess gown. She carried a pristine silver staff that stood nearly as tall as she was, capped with a brilliant, glowing gemstone. Her vibrant pink hair fluttered gently in the breeze, contrasting sharply with the unwavering, stone-cold determination etched into her sharp eyes.
She approached Chief Dave with an air of absolute superiority, offering a perfectly practiced, polite aristocratic bow.
"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Chief of the Kraven Settlement," she said, her voice clear, melodic, and entirely devoid of genuine warmth. "I am a formal representative of the crown. My name is Rosella, hailing from the prestigious Eastern Royal Academy."
Chief Dave's face went completely pale, his breath catching in his throat. "Ro… Rosella…" he whispered, his voice trembling. "You're… you're the legendary vanguard mage—"
"Yes," Rosella interrupted smoothly, a calm, pristine smile spreading across her lips. "I am a core member of the Hero's official support team. We are the ones who successfully orchestrated the siege that defeated the late Demon Queen."
That flawless smile faded into nothingness the exact moment her sharp gaze drifted past the chief and landed directly on me.
"And this individual is…?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Yes, Ma'am Rosella," Dave said nervously, sweating profusely as he stepped aside. "He is the designated demon tribute for this season… and the currency taxes are fully prepared as requested."
"Hm."
Rosella stepped toward me, the silk of her dress rustling softly against the grass. She lifted my left hand gently with her manicured fingers… and suddenly wrapped both of her hands tightly around my wrist, channeling a faint pulse of diagnostic magic.
"His raw mana signature… it is remarkably weak and erratic for a demon," she murmured, her voice carrying a deep, dangerous undercurrent of suspicion.
"It's still more than enough to tear your throat out right now if you don't take your hands off me, human," I snapped casually, letting out a wild, arrogant grin. I pitched my voice into a rough, unhinged register, playing the part of a feral, low-tier beast to perfection.
Rosella's left eyebrow twitched violently at the blatant disrespect. She dropped my hand as if it were contaminated.
"…Bind the creature in anti-magic iron," she commanded coolly, turning her back to me. "Secure the tax crates. We are leaving immediately."
"Yes, Ma'am!" the imperial soldiers responded in unison.
Two massive, heavily armored infantrymen aggressively grabbed my arms, slamming the heavy iron cuffs around my wrists. I put up a brief, theatrical struggle, cursing under my breath, but ultimately allowed them to drag me forward.
This was precisely how the first phase of the script was supposed to look.
An hour later, the human extraction squad was deep into the winding forest path, well out of sight of the village.
The armored soldiers escorted me ruthlessly along the dirt trail, keeping a tight perimeter. Rosella walked a few paces ahead of the formation, the metallic butt of her silver staff tapping rhythmically against the damp earth with every step.
It was finally time to execute the secondary phase of the infiltration.
"How strange," Rosella said suddenly, her clear voice cutting through the sounds of marching boots. She didn't bother turning around to face me. "You are being awfully calm and compliant for a demon currently being marched toward a human interrogation facility."
I simply shrugged my shoulders, letting out a lazy, unbothered yawn. "Eh. I'm pretty much used to having terrible luck at this point in my life, lady."
"Hmph. Pathetic," she scoffed, her shoulders squaring as she continued marching forward.
Her haughty attitude, her underlying suspicion, the route they were taking—everything was moving entirely according to the tactical framework I had mapped out. As I stared at the back of her head, I allowed a faint, predatory smirk to cross my disguised face.
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