It Seems the Demon King Has Returned to a World Where Gender Roles Are Reversed - Chapter 5

 Chapter 5

“Move faster, you lazy slugs! Can’t you pick up the pace?!”  

The bellowing voice echoed from the platform, causing the workers at the lumberyard to scowl in discontent.  

Watching their reactions, the burly man on the platform shouted again.  

“How are we supposed to meet today’s quota like this, huh? You think you’ll get to eat with this kind of effort?!”  

The workers grumbled under their breath, grinding their teeth as the man brandished his whip, his tirade unrelenting.  

The one who’d arbitrarily raised the quota was none other than the overseer on the platform. If meeting that quota was so urgent, why didn’t he come down and lend a hand himself? They wanted to scream it out loud, but they swallowed their words, stifling the urge. With no other choice, they returned to their tasks.  

Yet the overseer’s barrage of insults continued unabated. That is, until—  

“Overseer.”  

A sharp, feminine voice cut through the air behind him. The overseer’s body flinched, trembling slightly.  

It wasn’t just him. The workers, too, froze momentarily, their faces etched with fear.  

“Ugh…”  

The overseer’s expression hardened, his earlier bravado evaporating. Swallowing hard, he cautiously turned to look behind him.  

Approaching was a woman in a green military uniform. Her presence alone drained the color from his face.  

She strode toward him with purpose, her boots clicking against the ground.  

“What’s going on here? Why haven’t we met the work targets yet?”  

“W-Well, you see… I-I…”  

“If you’ve got an excuse, let’s hear it!”  

The overseer squeezed his eyes shut, stumbling over his words.  

“I-I tried… We’ve been pushing to meet the targets, but…”  

“You tried?”  

“Y-Yes, but no matter how much we whip these slowpokes, they just dawdle, and the work—”  

Before he could finish, his words were cut off.  

The woman in the military uniform had seized his collar, her face a mask of barely contained fury.  

“You call that an excuse, Overseer?”  

The overseer flailed, gasping for air. The woman glared at him, her anger unwavering. Then, something unbelievable happened.  

His feet began to lift off the ground. With a stance like she was hoisting a heavy object, the woman effortlessly raised him by the neck.  

The workers, stealing glances at the scene, turned pale and averted their eyes. The overseer’s face, already ashen, darkened as if life itself were draining from him. His choking gasps grew silent, his struggling legs weakening.  

Only then did the woman release her grip.  

*Thud!*  

“Cough… hack!”  

The overseer collapsed, his massive frame trembling as he gasped for air.  

The woman looked down at him with disgust, as if he were something vile.  

*Thwack!*  

“Gah!”  

“Let me make this clear,” she said coldly. “Meet the target by the end of today, or I’ll finish you myself. Understood?”  

The overseer, curled up like a worm from the kick to his stomach, nodded frantically.  

With a final glance of disdain, as if looking at an insect, the woman turned and walked away.  

The workers, still trembling, returned to their tasks in silence.  

Among them was Ragna.  

Using a plane to trim branches from felled logs, Ragna had witnessed the entire ordeal.  

“…Is that what the old man meant by ‘strength’?”  

Frowning, he muttered to himself.  

It seemed the old man’s words were true after all.  

This was a world 500 years in the future.  

A world where the roles of men and women had reversed.  

A world turned upside down.  

It felt like another dimension entirely.  

But that wasn’t the important part.  

If all of this was true, then Ragna had lost a crucial purpose: his revenge against the Hero.  

The thought made his face twist in frustration, his teeth grinding audibly.  

Even so, he had no choice but to accept it.  

This was a world 500 years later.  

The Hero’s traces had long since vanished.  

He’d always wondered why history held no record of the Hero, but that was beside the point now.  

What mattered was the passage of 500 years.  

The Hero’s legacy had been erased by time.  

And that meant his revenge against Margarita was impossible.  

The obsession that had sustained him until now…  

The target of that obsession had vanished in an instant.  

The sense of loss was overwhelming, and Ragna struggled to suppress the rage boiling inside him.  

He wasn’t foolish. He knew he had to accept what couldn’t be changed.  

For now, his immediate goal was finding the descendants of the demons.  

Revenge against the Hero, or humanity, could come later.  

To achieve that, he needed to regain his strength.  

And he needed to escape this lumberyard.  

The thought darkened his expression further.  

Last night, another man sharing his lodging had told him something.  

According to him…  

“Hey!”  

A high-pitched girl’s voice interrupted his thoughts from behind.  

“...?”  

Puzzled, Ragna turned to see who it was.  

A girl in a white military uniform approached, her red hair flowing as she hurried toward him. Without hesitation, she closed the distance and leaned in with a bright smile.  

“Thank goodness! You’re finally awake!”  

Startled by her enthusiasm, Ragna took an awkward step back.  

(What’s going on?)

(What is this about?)

No matter how hard he racked his brain, he had no memory of this girl.  

Yet she approached him with such familiarity, asking about his well-being.  

(Why?)

Then, a realization hit him.  

When he first woke up, the old man had mentioned that he’d been saved by “some girls.”  

Could it be…  

“Are you the one who saved me?”  

“Yup, that’s right!”  

The girl nodded vigorously, her smile as bright as ever.  

Relief washed over Ragna, and he let out a quiet sigh.  

(So that’s what this is about.)

If she was his rescuer, the least he could do was thank her.  

“Thank you. I owe you my life.”  

“No problem, no problem! It’s only natural to help someone in need. By the way, how’d you end up passed out in a place like that?”  

“Well, about that…”  

(Didn’t the old man pass on the story?)

Deciding to stick to the vague explanation he’d given the old man, Ragna began, “I was wandering through the Dark Forest, and…”  

“Wow… that must’ve been tough.”  

The girl looked at him with eyes full of sympathy, nodding as she muttered to herself. Ragna watched her quietly.  

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay. Oh, by the way, what’s your name?”  

(Right, I haven’t introduced myself.)

“I’m Ragna. No surname.”  

“Ragna? That’s a cool name! Oh, I’m Seria. Seria Branzburg.”  

“Branzburg? Well, thank you again for saving me.”  

“No worries! It’s what any aspiring knight would do.”  

Seria flashed a dazzling smile, and Ragna, slightly overwhelmed, took another step back.  

“Anyway, it’s great you’re okay.”  

“...?”  

“You said you’ve been wandering, right? No place to call home?”  

“…”  

“Why not stay here? The Kingdom Union’s lumberyard provides food, lodging, and even pays you! If you stick around, you could—”  

“Seria!”  

A sudden voice from behind made Seria flinch, cutting her off mid-sentence. She cautiously turned around.  

Ragna followed her gaze.  

Standing there was a blonde woman, glaring in their direction.  

Seria muttered under her breath, “Oh no, it’s Lady Karen…”  

“...?”  

As Ragna looked on, puzzled, the blonde woman presumably Karen strode toward them.  

Her cold, commanding presence made the workers around them shrink back instinctively.  

“What are you doing here, Seria?”  

“Uh, well, I was just…”  

Karen’s icy blue eyes shifted to Ragna, scanning him with a chilling intensity. He flinched and stepped back.  

Karen’s gaze flicked between Ragna and Seria, who scratched her head nervously, laughing awkwardly.  

With a sigh, Karen finally spoke.  

“It’s time for the regular assembly. Head to the plaza immediately.”  

“Yes, ma’am!”  

Seria snapped to attention and started to run off, but then paused, turning back to Ragna.  

“Oh, right! Work hard and save up lots of money! I’ll come back to check on you later!”  

With that, she darted toward the plaza, shrinking under Karen’s stern gaze.  

Karen, about to say something, sighed again and shook her head. Her eyes briefly met Ragna’s.  

Her gaze was as cold as ever, but there was something else in it now disdain, perhaps, or pity.  

Unable to bear it, Ragna looked away and focused on his work.  

“…Hmph.”  

Karen gave a faint snort, then turned and walked back toward the plaza.  

_______

_

The whistle signaling the end of the day’s work finally blew.  

Grumbling about the late hour, the workers began packing up their tools. Ragna, following suit, cooled his blistered hands and joined the line.  

He recalled what the other workers had told him the previous night.  

Apparently, everyone who ended up here was saddled with forced debt. Until that debt was paid, they couldn’t leave.  

Of course, there were exceptions like Ragna, who had no debt to begin with. For them, it was about reaching a set “target amount” to earn their freedom.  

(Why did I have to end up in a place like this?)

Ragna sighed heavily, then remembered Seria’s words.  

(Work hard, huh?)

He scoffed bitterly.  

When his turn came, he stepped up to the overseer, who was rubbing his sore neck, still bruised from earlier. With a grunt, the overseer dropped a few coins into Ragna’s hand.  

“…”  

Ragna’s eyes widened as he stared at the coins.  

(Three copper coins?)

He looked at the overseer in disbelief, but the man barked, “Take it and get lost!”  

Pushing Ragna aside, the overseer moved on to the next worker, dropping the same three copper coins into their hand.  

The workers muttered complaints but said nothing more, trudging back to their lodgings.  

Ragna followed, but his frustration boiled over. Unable to contain it, he veered off the path and ran to a secluded corner of the lumberyard.  

No one would hear him here.  

No matter how loudly he screamed.  

“Argh!”  

With a cry of rage, he began hurling nearby objects, venting his anger.  

(Damn it! Damn it all!)

(What kind of nonsense is this?!)

(Three copper coins?)

(What am I supposed to do with this?!)

Three copper coins couldn’t even buy a moldy loaf of bread at the market.  

Yet this was the result of backbreaking labor.  

(This isn’t some cruel joke!)

Then, Seria’s words echoed in his mind again.  

“Why not stay here? The Kingdom Union’s lumberyard provides food, lodging, and even pays you!”

“Work hard and save up lots of money! I’ll come back to check on you later!

“…Hah, was she mocking me?”  

A hollow laugh escaped his lips as he sank to the ground, defeated.  

---  

The Kingdom Union’s lumberyard, located near the Dark Forest, might sound like any other logging camp at first glance.  

But this place was different.  

It was managed not by civilians, but by the Kingdom Union’s officers and knights.  

The reason was simple: danger.  

The Dark Forest earned its name from rumors of a gateway to the demon realm nearby. The demons that occasionally emerged from it were nothing short of catastrophic.  

And then there were the magical beasts prowling the forest, posing constant threats to the workers.  

A single misstep could mean annihilation for the entire crew.  

Yet abandoning the Dark Forest wasn’t an option. Its massive coniferous trees were a vital resource for humanity.  

Thus, despite the risks, the lumberyard was established, guarded by the Kingdom Union’s military.  

But no one volunteered to work in such a perilous place.  

So, what was the solution?  

Someone had a simple idea: if people wouldn’t come willingly, force them.  

Thus, the lumberyard became a forced labor camp.  

Its first workers were prisoners criminals from various kingdoms, expendable in the eyes of the authorities.  

The idea was a hit among the Kingdom Union’s leaders. It was a win-win: they could clear out their prisons, save on maintenance costs, and even profit by selling prisoners to the lumberyard.  

The camp became a goldmine, producing vast amounts of timber by carving through the Dark Forest.  

But the cost was countless lives, ground down like insects.  

Eventually, the supply of prisoners dwindled, and the Kingdom Union couldn’t afford to abandon their profitable operation.  

So they turned to new prey: vagrants, beggars, the unemployed, and anyone deemed a societal nuisance.  

Lured with promises of work for the “greater good,” these people were thrust into grueling labor.  

What awaited them was exploitation: dilapidated lodgings, food barely better than animal feed, and the meager reward of three copper coins a day.  

Three copper coins worthless in the market, yet to the workers, they were a lifeline.  

Their only hope was to somehow save enough to buy their freedom.  

It was a cruel joke.  

Yet the lumberyard persisted, justified as a “necessary sacrifice” for the greater good.  

To the workers, it was hell.  

And Ragna was now trapped in it.  

_______

_

“…Don’t make me laugh.”  

Banging his fist against a nearby tree trunk, Ragna muttered, trying to calm his racing heart.  

(What a ridiculous scheme.)

If this was how it was going to be, he’d stop holding back.  

No matter what it took, he’d escape this lumberyard.  

With that resolve, he began to think.  

And one conclusion emerged.  

“…Magic, huh?”  

Clenching his reddened fists, he stared at his hands.  

Magic.  

The only way out was to use the faint traces of dark magic left in his body.  

But even that had its limits.  

By his calculations, he could cast maybe five or six spells before his magic was depleted, leaving him powerless.  

He needed an escape plan before that happened.  

(What’s the best approach?)

Attacking with magic was out of the question his meager spells couldn’t take down a golem.  

Invisibility or physical enhancement spells were options, but his current magic reserves couldn’t sustain high-level invisibility, and enhancement wouldn’t help him navigate traps or obstacles.  

(What else, then?)

A new idea struck him: enchantment or binding spells to control someone influential and secure his escape.  

But that, too, was impractical. Such spells required time and isolation—conditions a lowly worker like him couldn’t create.  

Plus, he knew nothing about the Kingdom Union’s hierarchy or who held real power here.  

(So that’s a dead end too—)

“Wait.”  

A sudden thought sparked in his mind.  

The girl who’d greeted him earlier Seria, was it?  

And the blonde woman with her Karen, if he remembered correctly.  

Their uniforms white tops, black pants, with black and gold-trimmed collars and cuffs matched the description the old man had given him.  

They were the uniforms of the Kingdom Union’s knights, elite soldiers who controlled the golems, the backbone of this world’s military might.  

“…So that’s how it is.”  

A sly grin spread across Ragna’s face.  

If he could manipulate a knight, freeing a single worker like himself would be child’s play.  

His mind raced, piecing together a plan based on the spells he knew.  

After careful consideration, he nodded.  

(This could work.)

It was the most promising option he had.  

A flicker of excitement coursed through him as he began mapping out his next steps.  

The two knights he knew were Seria and Karen.  

(Who to target first?)

“Seria, the redhead, obviously.”  

Karen clearly despised him for reasons he couldn’t fathom.  

Seria, on the other hand, had shown him kindness, though her overly familiar attitude grated on him. For his goal, he could tolerate it.  

The question was how to create an opportunity.  

For now, he could do nothing but wait for her to approach him again.  

She’d said she’d come back, hadn’t she?  

Banking on that, Ragna began plotting his next moves, muttering to himself.  

A fierce smile crept onto his face.  

_________________________

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