On a hair trigger as we were, it still took an hour just to reach the conclusion that we should at least talk things out. Princess Pricha still suspected the Demon Lord and was far from convinced.
Maybe it's the wisdom of years. Filia—an elf of indeterminate age—was mediating between the Demon Lord and Princess Pricha.
Even so, both the Demon Lord and the princess were at least restraining themselves enough not to attack each other. I guess that hour let everyone get their thoughts in order.
"Demon Lord, why has the Hero become younger?"
At Filia's words I looked at the room's mirror—and froze.
I alone looked as I had on the day I was summoned to the other world. Everyone else was unchanged from how they'd been fighting at the Demon Lord's castle… So why am I the only one back to my first‑year‑of‑high‑school self, wearing the holy armor that was loaned to me as the Hero?
"Maybe it's because of that primordial magic? Since a summoned Hero got caught up in it, the return spell cast on the Hero might have misfired. Normally, a Hero who wishes to go back is sent home when the Demon Lord dies. The instant that primordial magic made me no longer the Demon Lord, the spell must have sensed the Demon Lord had 'vanished,' triggered the return spell, and brought us here."
Prefacing it as mere speculation, the Demon Lord offered that explanation; Filia seemed to accept it, and asked nothing further.
She could be lying, of course, but if we start doubting that, we won't get anywhere. Filia was focused on gathering what information we did have and thinking about what to do next.
"Does that mean… we can't go back?"
"I've never even heard of magic that crosses between worlds. I'm sure the Demon Lord can't use it either. If she could… she would have left that world long ago."
Sanctina looked anxious, clearly wanting to return; Filia affirmed the Demon Lord's words with an apologetic expression.
Her unease is only natural. I wanted to come back to this world for a long time myself. If both the Demon Lord and Filia say it's difficult, then for now they won't be able to return. As for the Demon Lord, she doesn't seem inclined to anyway.
…Hold on.
If they can't go back, does that mean I'm the one who has to look after them?
The Demon Lord, and my companions—the elite of the elite? Truth is, even on the journey up to our battle with the Demon Lord, they had plenty of soldiers and attendants along.
I've never seen any of them cook, and I don't even know if they have anything you'd call a sense of everyday life.
And besides… whatever. I need to think about what comes next.
Princess Pricha. A princess with softly wavy blonde hair. Nineteen years old.
She's slender with a knockout figure, yet she can crush burly, strong men as easily as picking a flower. She has mastered two top‑tier warrior skills: Unrivaled by Ten Thousand and Adamantine Indestructible.
Filia. An elf, with long silver hair and the long ears characteristic of her people. Age unknown.
She's curvy, and can use every kind of magic except darkness. She apparently has a variety of skills, but she hasn't told me what they are.
Sanctina. A petite saint with bright brown hair in a short bob. Twenty years old.
She's slender and is always taken for younger than she is. Her figure is—well, one step shy of fully grown. She can use healing, defensive, and support magic, and has skills such as Divine Oracle.
The Demon Lord, named Noctia. Black hair down to her waist, and a demon‑tribe crest on her face. I don't know her age. In fact, this is the first time we've spoken properly without our weapons drawn.
Let me be blunt: am I supposed to look after these nobles—people who know nothing but high society—here in Japan on Earth?
If time here is still the day I was summoned, I'm a high schooler.
"Hero, could I have something to drink?"
As I sat thinking, the Demon Lord looked at me and smiled. I've never heard that she can read minds, but she's the type who can see right through what you're thinking. She must have noticed I was in a bind.
For now, I led them to the living room on the first floor.
There was barley tea in the fridge. Figuring that would do, I poured it into glass cups and brought it to them.
My companions were unusually quiet; they were taking in a room so clearly different from anything in the other world.
"Thank you!"
Parched, maybe? Sanctina drank without complaint, savoring it. She may come from the upper class, but as someone trained as a saint, she might be the most resilient to abrupt changes.
"Roasted barley extracted in water, isn't it? I recall there were peoples in water‑rich regions who drank this."
Perhaps thanks to her years, Filia kept an eye on the distance between the others and the Demon Lord while still showing consideration for me. She was always calm, reading the room—and the battlefield.
"I'd like to get a little fresh air…"
Princess Pricha had, for the moment, agreed not to fight the Demon Lord here, but the drastic change had left her looking a bit tired. She probably needed more time to absorb and accept the situation.
But it'll be a problem if they go outside.
"Better not. The Hero looks like a commoner here. A commoner out with unknown highborns—people will make a fuss."
"We would be in the right. Shouldn't we carry ourselves with dignity?"
"You still don't understand? Even our war had reasons each side thought were right. Besides, here the only one who can vouch for your rank is the Hero. In your country, would they take a commoner's word at face value? In the worst case, as otherworlders of another race, you could be treated the same way demons were in your land."
From a small action, the mood once again felt one spark away from exploding. Filia wore a "here we go again" look; Sanctina flustered.
Still, I could tell Princess Pricha was showing restraint by not pointing a weapon. She understood—her feelings just hadn't settled.
Even so, leaving it to the two of them would only sour the atmosphere. I had to mediate.
"Your Highness, I'm sorry, but being seen as outsiders could make things troublesome. Let's think of countermeasures first."
It felt like a feeble outcome, but I've worked as a Hero for years. I want to believe I've earned at least some trust.
At my words, Princess Pricha wore a look bordering on resignation and sat back down on the sofa she'd been using a moment before.