Proof of the Demon Lord's Innocence - Chapter 3

A Demon Lord talent is said to occur randomly among humans, with no hereditary ties. Trias was a prime example—his father was a black mage, and his mother was a thief, both typical Job holders. The power of a Demon Lord isn’t passed down genetically, and their children don’t necessarily inherit the same abilities. Because of this, society often treats Demon Lords as if they’ve drawn an unlucky lot in life or possess a kind of disability.

But the talent itself isn’t inherently a curse. In fact, Demon Lords are often physically good looking and capable of bearing children with anyone, which makes them strangely alluring to certain groups. If their identity remains hidden, they frequently become popular in their communities. With their immense potential in both magic and swordsmanship, a Demon Lord could theoretically contribute greatly to society, if they used their abilities for good.

Unfortunately, too many Demon Lords follow the stereotypical path associated with their Job. The reason remains unclear, maybe it’s their upbringing, or perhaps there’s some innate psychological flaw. Most Demon Lords commit minor offenses at worst, but every few years, one takes the plunge into world domination, only to meet their end at the hands of a chosen hero.

For those captured alive, the outcome is just as grim. Trials for Demon Lords are little more than formalities, with the verdict almost always favoring the prosecution. No lawyer willingly defends a Demon Lord; those cases are career poison and almost impossible to win. In the absence of volunteers, they’re assigned court-appointed lawyers who are rarely motivated to do more than the bare minimum.

For a Demon Lord, getting arrested is essentially a death sentence. There has never been a case where a Demon Lord accused of attempting world domination received anything less than life imprisonment or execution.

Even if they deny most of the charges, the weight of public fear and prejudice ensures their fate is sealed.

“I’m such a fool.”

In the detention center, Demon Lord Trias Marigold sighed to himself.

“I was taught by my parents not to act on impulse, to the point of exhaustion.”

The Demon Lord Job was completely different from the others. It was like having all the talents of every Job combined into one. Though, because of their often slim build, Demon Lords might not have the strength to take down monsters like a swordsman would.

Even among Demon Lords, there were differences. Trias, though, had a particularly strong talent for magic, probably thanks to his father’s genetics. He was proud of being able to handle both white and black magic with more skill and power than most specialists. People with magic-based Jobs usually had a lot of career options because their ability to sense magic was useful in all sorts of situations. They could help out at construction sites, using support magic to move materials or heal workers, making them pretty valuable. Maybe that’s why people with magic talents often came off as a bit overconfident.

It was obvious right after birth whether someone had the talent of a Demon Lord, because, so far, only those born with that talent were hermaphrodites. They could clearly identify with one gender mentally and physically, but that physical trait always gave them away.

“My parents knew right away that I was born with the power of a Demon Lord, but instead of killing me, they raised me like any other child…” Trias thought.

The faces of his deceased parents flashed in his mind and quickly faded away. He couldn’t thank them enough. They raised him while helping him pretend to be just another magic user, hiding the fact that he was a Demon Lord. Some parents, afraid of the Demon Lord talent and seeing it as a curse from a demon, would kill their child the moment they realized the truth. He really did have amazing parents, ones he didn’t deserve. If he could’ve been a little greedy, he might’ve wished he hadn’t been born with such an obvious face. He would’ve preferred to look more like one of his parents, just a normal person. But, in the grand scheme of things, that was his only real complaint.

There were moments when he regretted having the power of a Demon Lord, but overall, he was happy. He truly believed that, with his power, he could help a lot of people. Unfortunately, once the townspeople found out what his true Job was, they started to treat him differently, clearly unsettled by his presence and keeping their distance.

“The only ones who stuck around after learning about my Demon Lord power were my parents and two others…”

Thinking of one of them, his lover Undine, Trias bit his lip. She was gentle, elegant, beautiful, and braver than anyone he knew. What started as a simple crush turned into a love he wanted to protect with his life. She accepted him for who he was, and he promised to protect her, no matter what. He was supposed to be the one protecting her.

How did things end up like this?

If he’d just been a little calmer, if he’d thought things through a bit more—could he have avoided this worst-case scenario?

“Even if I deny it, I know I’ll still be sentenced to death. But I can’t admit to something I didn’t do…!”

He knew that confessing might lessen his sentence, that it could increase the chances of a lighter punishment. But Trias was sure he couldn’t give in, because…

“You’ve done nothing wrong… Don’t forget. You have a friend right here.”

That was because admitting guilt would mean betraying the few people who still believed in him.

“Hey, Trias Marigold.”

The sudden call snapped Trias’s attention to the bars. He looked up in surprise to see a policeman glaring at him with visible disgust. Trias didn’t need to guess why. Many people hated the Demon Lord Job, but the followers of the “Lily Faith,” a large religious group, were especially hostile. They believed anyone with the power of a Demon Lord was a “child of demons with a tainted body.” Based on their past interactions, Trias could tell this policeman was one of those believers.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor…?” Trias echoed, confused.

“A lawyer, a weird one at that.”

The only people who could visit him now were family or a lawyer, and even a lover couldn’t visit unless they were married. Trias was alone, his parents were dead, his lover gone, and no one would be foolish enough to defend him. Or so he thought.

He couldn’t believe a lawyer would come to see him. The deadline for appointing a court-appointed lawyer hadn’t even arrived yet.

“…I’ll see them. What’s their name?”

The policeman hesitated, clearly unwilling to provide the information. He grumbled, clearly annoyed but eventually relented.

“Freya Blossom. You’ve probably heard the name before, haven’t you?”

“The Rebel of Justice from the Lotus Federation, Freya”. Trias knew the name, of course. It was famous, but not necessarily in a good way. He’d never met Freya, but he had heard plenty about him. Trias, who loved reading, had always been the type to devour books and newspapers from a young age.

Freya’s reputation had earned him the “rebel” label, despite the word “justice” in his title. He was known for taking on only criminal cases—or rather, cases that sparked his interest. He wasn’t in it for the money, turning down most high-paying litigation jobs. Instead, he frequently tackled major criminal cases, and even though he’d only been a lawyer for a few years, his cases often made headlines.

Why? Because Freya was notorious for overturning cases that everyone thought were already decided, clearing defendants of charges that had been proven false.

It was no surprise that prosecutors disliked him. He had a habit of digging into matters, uncovering truths that people preferred to keep buried. Some politicians and those in power weren’t fond of him either. The public was divided, some saw him as a hero of justice, while others called him a hypocrite.

And now, here he was, taking on Trias’s case. It was a rare one, the kind of “Demon Lord world domination” case that didn’t pop up often. To someone like Freya, it might be the kind of irresistible challenge he couldn’t pass up.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Even if he defends me, the outcome won’t change.”

It wasn’t a desperate hope. Trias knew very well that clinging to a lifeline wouldn’t save him.

But still, he decided to meet Freya, not out of desperation, but because he wanted to fight with his pride intact, right up until the end.

“Hey, you’re Trias, right?”

And so, Trias would meet him in the visitation room.

A lawyer with fiery red hair, an intense individual, to say the least.