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Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

The Demon Lord’s base—Grünstadt Castle.
The name sounds intimidating, but in truth, it’s just an abandoned old fortress on the frontier. It was destroyed centuries ago in a human war, and now the Demon Lord’s army uses it as their headquarters.
Though originally a ruin, it’s been rebuilt with magic into a fortress so strong it’s practically impregnable.
The castle is shrouded in a magical mist that keeps enemies away—you can’t even see it properly, much less approach. The mist paralyzes humans on contact and also works like a detection field.
Even a large army would be wiped out before getting close.

I walk through that pleasant, magic-infused mist with my master slung over my shoulder. Teleportation into the castle is prohibited, so we have to enter through the front gate.
To avoid being mistaken for an intruder by the guards, I’ve shifted into my werewolf form while carrying my master.

“As creepy as this place looks, the atmosphere here is actually nice.”
“I’m a human, see. Well, I’d admit it’s not bad.”

She’s definitely not fully human anymore.
The draconian soldiers guarding the gate see our faces and let us through right away. All the castle’s security is handled by elite draconian troops.
They belong to the First Division—led by none other than the Demon Lord himself.

As we walk through the courtyard, a massive figure emerges from the mist.

“It’s him.”

The same time Master muttered so, I recognize him instantly from the stench of blood.

“Oh, it’s the Third Division.”

A towering brute with a beast-like face steps forward. He’s over three meters tall—almost twice my size. One of the beast-ogre tribe. Bare-chested, gripping a steel club.
He’s Dog, vice commander of the Second Division and leader of the Beast-Ogre Corps.
Don’t laugh at the name—it means “Mad One” in his tribe’s language. Basically, “Mad Dog.”
Which makes it even harder not to laugh.

Mad Dog gives my master a half-hearted salute, then glares down at me.

“Reporting in now, little pup?”

He’s clearly mocking me. Looks like he’s just come back from his own report. I don’t know how much earlier he arrived, but to him it’s all about winning or losing.
I don’t react, just stay bored and silent. Dog keeps pushing.

“So you took down some trading town? Big deal. Not worth reporting. I conquered the mining city of Boltz.”

He swings his club proudly, flashing a smug grin. What’s he so happy about?

“A mine, got it? They dig up iron. Your trading town doesn’t dig anything. It’s worthless.”

Ah. So that’s his logic.
Simply put, he thinks his prize is more valuable.

People like him don’t understand how valuable trade is. Actually, even most other demons and humans don’t get it. Logistics is everything.
But it’s not something I can explain easily—and I’m not obligated to, either.
So I just shrug.

“Must be nice, being so simple.”

That made his face go bright red. Huh. Beast-ogres bleed red too.

“You b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲! Do you even know who I am?! I’m Dog! The prodigy of the Beast-Ogres!”

Prodigy, huh… Well, beast-ogres have the brains of grade-schoolers. This guy might be middle-school level, so I guess he’s a genius by their standards.

“I’m a mage with the strength of a werewolf. Which one of us do you think is stronger? You’re a genius, figure it out.”
“Of course it’s me!”

How do I deal with this idiot?
I glance up at my master, but she’s floated away without care.

“Now, now, you two are both vice commanders. Try to get along.”
“Master…”

Guess she’s not a fan of drama either.

Oh well. I look back up at the ogre.
Among demons, strength decides rank. Lose, and you’re beneath them.
Might as well play along. I glare at him.

“Don’t block the way with your overbloated body, weakling. Move.”
“What did you say?!”

He swings his club. No warning.

Of course, I’m not about to be hit by that. In my werewolf form, I can see it coming a mile away.
The blow only shatters the stone tiles under our feet, sending fragments flying.

“Hey now, don’t go breaking the Demon Lord’s castle.” Since he struck first, I decided I can play a little rough too. “Time for a little punishment.”

Werewolf vs. Beast-Ogre.
In raw power, the ogre wins—hands down. That body and club make him a demolition machine.
But his size is also his weakness.
He’s slow to move.
You need real skill and guts to beat one to the punch. And even if you do land a critical hit, their insane durability means they still swing back. Terrifying creatures.
For humans, anyway.

I dodge his second swing without trouble. So this is what passes for a vice commander among the ogres.
His blunt club isn’t even that threatening unless it gets a clean hit.
And I’m not sticking around for a third strike.
I leap up and smash a flying kick into his jaw.

“Guh?!”

A human’s face would’ve shattered, but he only broke his jaw. Tough guy.

Most people would surrender after that kind of injury. But Dog’s still an officer in the Demon Lord’s army.
He roars and swings wildly, his club lashing out with terrifying force.

“Whoa there.”

Sloppy, but one hit could still kill me. I dodge carefully, preparing the finishing blow.
Oh right—my master’s watching.
Guess I’ll use a bit of magic.

I form a quick seal and charge magic into my palm.

“Don’t take this personally.”

My claws glow with deadly light.
I jam them into his already-broken jaw.

“GAAAHHH!”

My hand sinks into his face, crushing the fractured bone. The pain finally registers—he drops the club and collapses to his knees.

“Surrender already.”

I give him the chance, but he just groans in agony.
Fine.

“Night-night.”

I twist my wrist, still gripping his mangled jaw.
His huge head lolls, and his eyes roll back. Knocked out cold from the concussion. He crashes to the ground with a thunderous thud. He’s not getting up.
If ogres are the specialists in destruction, werewolves are specialists in slaughter.

“Well done, well done. That was a fine match,” my master says, floating down to us with zero concern in her voice. She heals Dog’s jaw with a quick spell, then pats his shoulder. “Such fierce spirit you’ve shown, Dog. A true vice commander.”

“Oww… urgh… it still hurts…”

He’s whining despite being healed. Looks like she used the most painful healing spell available—one that boosts natural healing with minimal magic, but causes searing pain until it’s done.
Yup. She’s secretly kinda cruel.

Then my Master turns to me with an annoyed look and flicks me on the head.

“That fight style of yours—honestly. You better reflect on that.”
“Y-Yes ma’am…”

I thought it was a clean win, but clearly she wasn’t happy.
She floats away, grumbling.

“Dearie me, you really gave this old woman a heart attack… show some consideration…”

So she was worried.
She may be quietly sadistic—but also kinda overprotective.

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