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Uchi no Musume no Tame naraba, Ore wa Moshikashitara Maou mo Taoseru kamo Shirenai (Light Novel) - Volume 5, Bonus Short Stories
Volume 5, Bonus Short Stories
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The Adorable Second Demon Lord and the Purple Oracle 1
Her blond hair drew an arc through the air.
She stopped her elegant, dance-like movement on a dime, and a second later, a spray of blood erupted around the blades she held in both hands, then pooled in a circle on the surrounding floor.
She laughed, a charming giggle fitting to her adorable appearance. "How pathetic. They broke far too easily."
Standing before the pathetic lamb trembling and unable to speak in the face of such unspeakable cruelty, the blond-haired girl known as the Second Demon Lord broke out in a smile reminiscent of a ferocious beast's.
†
"It is not possible," a beautiful, purple-haired woman clearly said in denial to the girl, who was like pride and cruelty incarnate.
"Are you saying you will not obey my order, Mov?" the girl asked, a hint of anger in her voice. The rage of this demon lord known as a calamity gave off enough pressure to bring all those around her to their knees in terror and awe.
However, that anger simply washed over the purple-haired woman, who remained so calm that it almost seemed like she didn't even notice it. "You killed them for sport the other day, did you not, my lord? The dinner simply cannot be prepared if there are no chefs."
The blond-haired girl quickly averted her gaze.
"We had human chefs confined to the manor because you said that devil cooking did not meet your tastes. But you killed them as they were plotting an escape, yes?"
"That's right. There was no helping that. That's the natural end awaiting any who defy me and try to run away, is it not?"
"Did you not consider the fact that as a result, we would be left with no one to prepare meals?" Mov asked, showing no hesitation even when facing a demon lord. "That is something that could have been foreseen even without my powers."
The way that the demon lord averted her gaze and stayed silent when things were inconvenient for her was proof that she still had some childishness about her, appropriate to her appearance.
"A demon lord can't starve to death," she finally said, voicing a conclusion that was a little off-point and hard to think of as anything but mere defiance. A demon lord could not be destroyed without the interference of their antithesis, a hero, and because of that, as lower-ranking gods, they wouldn't die of starvation.
"Then we can allow things to go as such."
"How about just capturing another chef? It shouldn't be all that hard to grab another weak human or two."
No matter what conclusion the girl offered, Mov responded with a clear, bright voice. "We have only been able to arrange your tea." "Huh?"
"The chefs were also the ones who prepared the tea cakes."
The expression on the Second Demon Lord's face was far from what one would expect from a demon lord, much less one known as a calamity.
Instead, it was more a young girl's. To put it simply, it was the face of a child who had had her sweets taken away.
"Even if we dispatched someone to the nearest town, it would take at least three days," Mov continued on, neither lecturing nor admonishing; she was simply stating facts. "In addition, it is only obvious that a town's activity will grind to a halt and goods will no longer be produced if all of its citizens are wiped out."
Mov had faced torture and violence each and every day based on the whims of the demon lord in front of her now, but put another way, that meant at times like this, she felt no need to hold back. She'd be exposed to such madness even if she did nothing, so she saw no need to go out of her way to try to keep the demon lord in a good mood. And thanks to her contract with the demon lord—the rules of their game—no matter what Mov said, the Second Demon Lord would never take her life.
As a result, she was able to see this rare sight: a demon lord in tears, having lost an argument.
"Mo—"
"No matter how many times you order me, I cannot produce what we do not have."
Having been thoroughly shut down, the demon lord kept drinking her black tea until her stomach was full to bursting. There was a misery in what she did that was hard to call anything but pathos.
It was a fact not known to the world at large that after this point, if only for a little while, the Second Demon Lord used a little more discretion in her slaughter.
The Adorable Second Demon Lord and the Purple Oracle 2
"Your purple mana trait is beautiful like a jewel, but naming you 'Mov' seems kind of plain, wouldn't you say?" the girl known as the Second Demon Lord asked the woman with long purple hair. The woman stood there without showing any particularly strong emotion.
In their mother tongue, "mov" meant "purple." However, it was also a
word that signified the principle god worshipped in their motherland. It
wasn't a name that was given lightly. It was a name with precious meaning behind it, and it had been granted to her because of her rare, high-ranking divine protection.
The Second Demon Lord should have understood that, but that adorable bundle of arrogance had decided that all facts that were inconvenient to her were insignificant and cast them aside.
"My name isn't anything like that. It's one that suits me, because I picked it out myself."
"Yourself...?" Mov whispered.
In response, the blond-haired girl gave a complacent smile and continued on. "My parents were truly tedious beings, so I cut them down, ending them by my own hand. I also buried everything they had given me alongside them. That makes me quite the loyal child, wouldn't you say?"
They had been separated for life, but even so, Mov was certain that her own daughter wasn't a good-for-nothing like this monster, but rather an earnest, adorable child. And she was thoroughly glad that this girl in front of her now, who was like an incarnation of all evil and only looked sweet on the outside despite being rotten to the core, was not her child.
"Mov, are you... thinking rather rude things about me...?"
"No, my lord. Of course not," Mov replied without a hint of hesitation or wavering to her voice. With her utterly unchanging expression, it was difficult to gauge what she was thinking. Her thought that it was pathetic to give oneself a cool name remained unnoticed.
Is this... a prediction...?
Not knowing who it applied to, the oracle kept that premonition—that there would likely be no chance to tell anyone the girl's name—to herself.
