Without his most loyal officer, his most capable soldier and his most feared enforcer, infighting within the Demon King's army emerged almost immediately. Within a day of the Dark General's demise, the goblins, ogres and lesser demons which made up the core of the army began to settle arguments with knives and grudges with blood.
One week after the first divisions began to appear, loyalty of the great clans united beneath the Demon King's banner splintered, torn between their support of a new Dark General or the pronouncement of new overlord entirely.
One month after the first whispers of rebellion, the first great clan seceded from the Demon King's cause. The great army originally designed on destruction of the kingdom scattered to the far reaches of the frozen north, its soldiers off to escape or to join the hellish inferno that was now the latest of the innumerable civil wars to engulf the tip of the world.
Far away from the bloodbath beyond the fortresses of the northern front, beyond the celebrations and the revelling in the Royal Capital, and beyond the renewed sordidness in the port of Blackrose and all across the kingdom, a woodaxe came down, cleanly slicing a modest log in two.
"Phew."
The twin pieces of wood fell softly against the grass of a tiny garden, flattening white flowers that were in full bloom.
Here in the far south of the kingdom, no hint of the war had ever reached it. Only the sun ever graced these verdant farmlands, and so even the smallest of gardens bloomed like a full meadow.
Wiping away a bead of sweat from my face, I took another log from the waiting pile and prepared to land another slice.
"You know it's fine to rest before immediately volunteering to work, don't you?"
The woodaxe missed, chipping the log. The greater part of the wood fell lamely against the open tree trunk it was balanced against.
I lightly placed the woodaxe against it, then let out a wry smile.
"I'm here to make a good impression. I can't rest before showing off my best side, can I?"
In front of me, my beautiful girlfriend rolled her dazzling blue eyes, before coming over to pick up the broken log from the grass. As she leaned down, the bright glare of a midday sun shone down on her golden hair. Among this garden, she looked the most wonderful flower of them all.
If flowers could wield axes, that is.
With barely a pause in her elegant motions, she lifted the woodaxe and sent it down, slicing what remained of the log into two clean halves. She placed the woodaxe back then against the tree trunk with a satisfied smile.
"There. That should be enough. You've sufficiently shown off your best side. Now, what do you say about tea?"
I grinned.
"Sounds good."
"It should do. The tea leaves cost a small fortune."
"I didn't know your parents like to splurge like that."
"They don't. But it was for a special occasion. It's not often my father becomes the mayor of the village he grew up in."
I nodded, saying nothing about the look of pride that flashed across Iris's face.
In this idyllic village untouched by matters of war, a new mayor had been confirmed in Iris's father. Although everyone claimed it was a close thing, I was under no doubt that it was a runaway victory. Just as Iris was famous locally for her beauty and her swordsmanship, her father was famed for his public service and his charity. And in small villages like this, that sort of pedigree made them more respected than kings.
It was the kind of simple happiness I was glad could be experienced by the people of this village.
After the defeat of the Dark General and the wholesale retreat of the Demon King's army, much needed reinforcements for the northern fortresses finally arrived, with soldiers arriving from neighbouring countries to support the kingdom.
That the reinforcements only arrived after the reported retreat of the Demon King's forces was not missed by either the citizens or the nobility of this kingdom. Still, it helped to ensure that there would be no repeat of the shortfall of soldiers that had almost led to the northern line falling.
As for when the next attack is expected, the answer is that nobody knew.
In all of the north's bloody history, wars came and went only with the advent of a Demon King soliciting power. With the influence, prestige and military power of the current Demon King depleted, there was no telling when the next assault would come. It could be months, years or decades. Whether or not this Demon King regained control of the northern wastes or a new overlord took the blood throne, there would be time to rebuild and reinforce.
It was a much needed respite for all involved.
Most of all us, whose deeds now boasted the slaying of two high demons and a Dark General within a short span of each other. Of course, it could be argued that the death of the Demon of Greed and the Dark General had less to do with our heroism and more to do with Magnus's recklessness, but it was an accolade we were more than happy to accept nonetheless.
There would be need to adventure in the future. To seek greater fame and fortune. But for now, it was enough to find a place to rest. To pay much needed visits to our homes and our families.
And that started with Iris's.
"Your father hasn't changed much," I said with a grin. "Still coddles you like a baby, even though you're officially one of the most famous heroines in the kingdom now."
"He said the same about you. You still lack muscle and upper body strength, despite also being one of the most famed heroes in the kingdom now."
I could say nothing to that, other than to groan slightly.
He may be one of the kindest people I had ever met, but Iris's father was also much alike her in another aspect. The ability to speak unreservedly. To Iris and me both.
In fact, there was only one person he seemed to not have any suggestions for improving in bodily strength.
"How's this for firewood, huh?"
Iris and I turned to the edge of the garden. What I saw instantly made my day slightly worse.
Magnus wore a disgustingly proud smirk, his huge frame now increased in mass by the addition of what appeared to be the two halves of a small tree held beneath both arms. Leaves trailed behind him as he proudly created footprints in the soft grass.
"What are you doing?!" cried Iris, her usually calm demeanour immediately shattered by the clear sight of a tree's corpse being lugged into her garden. "Where did you get that?! Why did you get that?! Oh no, is that the apple tree from the neighbour's?!"
Magnus gave a satisfied nod in answer. Iris reached for the woodaxe.
After a moment of deliberation, I reluctantly stepped between the two of them.
Not because I especially wanted to defend Magnus.
Rather, it was because I doubted if a woodaxe could harm him.
It would've been a waste of a good tool if it broke.
~ ~ ~
Within a small kitchen filled with clay pots and wooden furnishing, the sound of laughter rang out.
Sat around a table, Iris's father slapped his thighs, his face filled with mirth as he listened to Iris describing how Magnus had just looted an entire tree from the neighbour's garden.
A traditionally strong looking man in both looks and nature, Iris's father looked nothing like a man officially part of the political ladder. He wore the apron of a blacksmith, likely because that was his upbringing, while the muscles he boasted were still thick with use.
Despite it being a kitchen, the odd tool could still be seen lying around. Hammers that could no longer fit the overbursting shed where the anvil was still kept.
Although it disgusted me to admit this, he had far more in common with Magnus than with me, as could be seen by the laughter he shared with the man. Rather than reprimand him for tearing the neighbour's apple tree from the earth, he seemed to be of the opinion that if any man could do that, he should be allowed to by right.
It was almost as though he thought Magnus's muscles were like a cow's udder. If it wasn't used, he would eventually topple over and that'd be the end of him.
"Oh, it's fine, it's only a tree," said Iris's father. "Can tell for a fact that the old man next door wanted it gone, anyway. It was attracting some of the worst rodents he'd ever seen. They'd go on to run amok on his farm when they were done with the apples."
"Is that so," replied Iris, her smile hard. "What a wonderful relief that is."
"Good thing we have a man like Magnus around now. I know it's a waste of your talents, but later, I was wondering if you could help with a few niggling things we're stuck with. We're looking to dam a river, but my arms aren't enough to shift all the stone required. There's a boulder that we're looking to make use of."
Magnus proudly slapped his chest.
"Hauling boulders? Easy. I did that for fun growing up."
"Did you now? Was it part of your training in the Ten Dragons Clan?"
"You bet it was. Lifting boulders is what we do on the first day."
"Amazing. No wonder the warriors of your tribe are famed for their physical prowess. If I may ask, what sort of training do you do on your second day?"
Magnus wore his most disgusting grin yet.
"We do stamina training, if you know what I mean."
For a moment, Iris's father wore a look of puzzlement, just as Iris herself wore a look of absolute grief. I could see from her hand clenching into a fist whether or not it was worth smacking him in the head, even if that meant it would give away the implication of his words.
However, being Iris's father-
"Bwahahaha!"
He laughed, then slapped his thighs again. The cups of tea on the table moved alarmingly.
Iris looked ashen-faced. Meanwhile, I let out a wry smile, although secretly I was feeling anything but jovial at the familiar exchange.
Despite it being well known that I was supposed to be Iris's partner, I couldn't help but feel envious at the interactions between Magnus and my girlfriend's father. Although he was not impolite to me, it couldn't be denied that the way he spoke and treated Magnus was more akin to a son-in-law than a simple member of Iris's adventuring party.
Even as I smiled at the friendly exchange between them, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss at the familiarity afforded to Magnus and not me. Even though he would never say it, I had no doubt that he would prefer it if the man entrusted to his daughter's protection was one who boasted Magnus's large frame and muscled physique.
In fact, as far as opinions went, my only source of support came not from Iris's father, but rather, her mother.
"The tea is ready. Do drink up. It's been a hot day."
Sliding into the small kitchen space with a teapot in hand, Iris's mother began pouring into the prepared cups.
She looked as lovely as someone who brought Iris into this world could be expected to be. With hair that hadn't lost its golden shine, and eyes which were as blue as the sky outside, I had no doubt that Iris was destined to become even more beautiful than she already was.
With a kind smile, she nodded to each of us as she poured the tea, clearly attempting to not interrupt the laughter that was rolling around the room.
"Thank you," I said, silently happy that I was served tea before Magnus. "It smells great."
"I'm glad you think so. It's an expensive leaf," replied Iris's mother, in much the same vein as her daughter. "Please take your time and enjoy."
"I will. Thank you."
I offered my gratitude as best as I could. Not only for my sake, but also for Magnus's. He was far less interested in making a show of etiquette.
Receiving his tea, he downed his cup of tea without a second's thought, as though it were a drop of beer at the bottom of a tankard. And because that clearly wasn't enough, he proceeded to do the same with the cup next to his.
The one belonging to Iris.
It was an act so improper that were this the lobby of an inn, I knew exactly what would happen. And perhaps that's why he chose to do it with a smile, all the while trading jokes with the man who clearly didn't mind his familiarity with his daughter.
The respite lasted only a moment before the cracks began to form. I mentally prepared myself to deal with the impending fist fight.
"You will not do that again," said Iris calmly, before struggling to hold back the added words she wanted to include. "You brute."
Magnus shrugged unapologetically. Clearly enjoying this, he wore a smile like he was back in his own home and not Iris's.
"Yeah? Well, if I'm a brute, it means I get to do what I want, right?"
"Magnus. I will make this clear for you, as you lack the capacity to think about anything other than fighting, whoring and how best to lose your life. Tea costs money. It costs time and effort me to accumulate that money. Your lax views on enjoying the fruits of that time and money are not shared by me. If you drink from my cup again, I will hit you with it in a place where you will feel immense pain."
Magnus's grin became even wider.
However, as he was about to explain just why he wasn't going to do anything Iris wanted, another round of huge laughter bellowed out from the man across the table.
"That's more like it! Much more natural. It's better to talk like you always do instead of saving face around your family. When did you become so formal after coming back home, eh, Iris?"
Iris's cheeks turned red. It seemed that at least while we were here, she wanted to present a more refined image to everyone.
"Why, you used to be so outspoken," said her father with a chuckle. "Back when she was attending that uppity girls' school, she was the most wild of the lot. Could barely end a day without getting into a fine little tussle with someone. Always won in the end, though."
Iris's father wore a look of pride as he thought back on fond memories.
Memories which both Magnus and myself had never been informed about.
Ever.
Magnus was the first to look at her with an expression of incredulity. And also something else.
The start of his most gloating, wildly happy grin yet.
"Uppity girls' school?" he said.
Iris's cheeks had never been so red before.
~ ~ ~
We were in Iris's bedroom.
I was in a state of awe. During my one and only previous visit, I had not been allowed to enter this holy ground. Iris's childhood bedroom was a room off-limits to all except those she expressly permitted.
At the moment, that was none of us.
"Oh? Didn't you know? Our dear Iris went to the girls' school in the neighbouring town when she was younger."
Iris's mother was acting as our shield as she showed off her daughter's room to us.
It was far cuter than I could have imagined. With walls of pink and neatly arranged toys tidied away against desks and shelves, it was the bedroom of a girl whose destiny had not yet been claimed by the Goddess of Love.
This was not the bedroom of the Sword Princess. It was just Iris's. And it was wonderful.
"It's very pink," I said, despite Iris's glare. "Looks nice."
"It does, doesn't it? We try to keep it maintained. Maybe it's nostalgia, but we like to ensure that Iris has a familiar home she can return to anytime that she wishes. She's still the same little girl to me, even if she has grown into a fine heroine."
Iris's mother smiled happily, then went over to a closet.
Ignoring her daughter's cry of despair, she opened the door and took out a set of clothes neatly hooked together.
My jaw fell open at the sight.
A school uniform. But these weren't the barely fitting robes the Sisters would sometimes force on their pupils, nor the odd-coloured rags that travelling tutors would sometimes insist on.
It was a buttoned shirt with a smart jacket and a skirt.
The type which only students from expensive schools wore.
I turned to her, both bemused and stunned.
"You told me you had a village tutor!"
"I did." Iris looked sheepish. "It's just that … I also had other tutors too."
"Those weren't tutors. They were teachers. Professional teachers in a girls' school. You lived the high life, Your Highness."
That explained a lot about her demeanour. All this time, I knew she had a relatively comfortable upbringing, but I also knew she came from a humble village. I simply assumed her knowledge and manner of speaking was something she'd purposefully acquired later in life.
It turns out she'd acquired it much earlier.
"I knew it all along," said Magnus, looking no less thrilled to discover this information than I did. "You don't get as annoying as her without going to an uppity school for brats."
"It was not a school for brats," insisted Iris, clearly eyeing for her mother to put away the school uniform. "Well, yes, it had a few, but …"
Magnus roared in laughter. It was enough that Iris's protests were drowned out by the sound.
However, perhaps her words were not needed. After all, the redness of her cheeks said it all.
"Well, now, I believe this was enough," said Iris's mother, only now deciding to put the uniform away. She looked more than pleased at having revealed her daughter's secret history. "Here at least. There are still other things I think I can show. Iris has left many marks around the house."
Iris's mouth was open in silent horror.
Clearly, her mother hadn't spoken a lie. There was more than simply a closet of old clothes that could be used to embarrass her daughter.
"Oh, but first, you'll have to wait," said Iris's mother. "I need to buy some groceries from the village market before it closes. I fear that what we have available won't be enough to cover such hungry mouths."
"Please, let me do that," I responded at once. "If we're imposing, I at least wish to help with some of the costs. I can purchase whatever is needed at the market."
"No, I couldn't possibly allow you to do that. You're guests. It would not be correct."
"Please." I nodded and smiled. "It would be my pleasure. There are souvenirs I'd also like to purchase from the market for when we visit my own hometown. It would save me another trip."
Iris's mother sighed, then relented with a smile.
"Well … if you insist. Although I will not allow you to pay for anything you eat tonight."
I nodded.
All the while, I neglected to mention that I was more than aware that Iris's parents kept their funds in a small chest in the kitchen, kept there not for security, but for ease of access.
And very shortly, it would be slightly heavier.