Chapter 1: Visiting the Royal Castle
Year 165 of the Lyferian calendar, tenth day of the first month—
Rem and Shera were in their room in the guest ward of Castle Grandiose. Before them was a table loaded with countless dishes that served as their breakfast.
“The food here is so tasty!” Shera gladly relished the luxury of being able to eat as much of this delicious cooking as she asked for.
“...At least get dressed before you get out of bed.”
Shera was still in her pajamas, which consisted of just a blouse and panties.
“But it’s not like we’re gonna meet the king today, right?”
“...The audience will likely start whenever His Majesty decides it suits him, but we likely won’t be called right this instant.”
They weren’t told in any great detail, but the old butler said there were still a few days’ worth of meetings in line ahead of theirs. The king’s physical condition had deteriorated with the turn of the year, and, coupled with matters of government and military that had popped up, his scheduled meetings were going on slowly.
“I hope they’ll call us when they’re ready,” Shera said, her cheeks stuffed with fruit.
“...Yes, I asked if it’s possible for us to try again some other time.”
“And they said no?”
“...The butler said, ‘as your arrival has been reported to the king already, leaving without holding an audience may gall the king and be regarded as an affront.’”
“What language was that?”
“...Lyferia’s common language. What it means is that the king knows we’re in the castle, and if we leave without seeing him, he might get angry.”
“Then why not say it simply like that?”
“...There’s a way of speaking that fits the time and place.”
“Well, we came all the way here, so we should meet him. I don’t want to have to come here a second time.”
Indeed, there was a five-day carriage ride between the frontier city of Faltra and the capital, Seven Wall, which could be made a longer trip depending on the weather. It wasn’t exactly a place one could visit easily.
“...I won’t deny it’s a hard trip, but... You just want to stay in the castle so you can eat their food, don’t you?”
“Huh? Heh, heehee... That’s not true~ But why don’t you eat too, Rem?”
“...I dislike eating more than the proper amount. It makes me sluggish.”
“I eat the proper amount too!”
“...Shera, haven’t you gained a little weight?”
“Huh? I never gain weight.”
Rem eyed her with scorn.
“...If we don’t hold that audience soon, you’ll end up becoming round like a barrel.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t gain weight!”
It was then that there was a polite knock on the ivory door to their room.
“My apologies for interrupting your meal.”
It was the voice of the busybody old butler. Rem opened the door.
“...Did something happen?”
“I apologize for interrupting you during your free time, Miss Shera L. Greenwood and Miss Rem Galleu. There is someone who wishes to see you.”
“...And who might that be?”
“Duke Noah Gibun.”
Rem and Shera exchanged glances and shook their heads. It seemed neither of them knew him.
“...I don’t believe we know him?”
“Duke Gibun is blessed with great intelligence despite his age, and is His Majesty’s most trusted minister, given the most responsibilities. Not only was he granted the title of Duke, rumors say he will eventually reach the post of prime minister. I believe he has some things to ask you before your audience, most respectfully.”
“...I see.”
They were being evaluated to see if they were worthy of an audience with the king?
“There are many among the regional nobles and wealthy merchants who make great strides for a meeting with Duke Gibun,” the butler continued. “You are quite fortunate and should feel honored for being allowed to meet him.”
“...I wonder what such an influential person wants with us? We’ll get ready at once, so could you give us a bit of time?”
“Of course,” the butler said, relieved. “I will prepare the lounge, then, and will come to take you there in thirty minutes.”
It seemed that he only brought up the duke’s popularity and mentioned how much of an honor it was to see him because he feared they might refuse to meet him. It seemed he didn’t want to have to be the bearer of bad news who lets the future prime minister know his request for a meeting was turned down. They would have to meet him out of consideration for this hardworking butler, too.
The old butler left, closing the door behind him. Rem locked the door.
“...Get dressed, Shera.”
“Okay!”
She briskly took off her pajamas and threw them aside, but, just as she tried to put on her usual green outfit... it happened.
“Gh?!”
“...What’s wrong?”
“I feel... tight... in my chest... Can’t breathe...”
“Are you sick?!”
Or maybe the food was poisoned?!
But then Shera said, while slackening the leather straps holding her outfit from behind...
“I think my boobs got bigger.”
Rem’s gaze chilled and froze over.
“...Fat Elf.”
“Wow, mean?!”
“Get ready. Actually, no. Stay behind and keep guzzling down their food. I’ll meet the Duke alone—as Diablo’s wife.”
“Aaaah, but I’m his wife, too!”
“Then get dressed. Any shameful thing you do drags Diablo’s name through the mud.”
“Ngngng... I can adjust these clothes with the leather straps, but... I think they’re at their limit.”
The Elves were a slender race, and its women had modest chests, but Shera was an exception with rather large bosoms. Because of this, it seemed she had trouble getting into the royal Elven outfit. The leather straps were creaking under the pressure.
“Uuugh, my boobs are so big, I can’t move!”
“...Kuh.”
Looking down at her body, which lacked any parts that would make getting dressed hard, Rem grit her teeth.
No, I’m more nimble this way!
†
The room that made up Castle Grandiose’s tea lounge looked like a museum exhibit of sorts, and set up at its center was a round table for four. It seemed to be carved out of blue crystal, but there were no seams in it. One couldn’t imagine the size of the crystal required to carve this table. The backrests of the chairs seemed to be made up of dragon egg shells cut in half, and they were furnished with great bear furs.
The walls of the circular room were painted over, giving it the appearance of a garden. Along with this delicately designed mural, the room was also filled with the babbling of a stream, the scent of blooming flowers, and the fluttering of birds’ wings.
Rem was shocked beyond all words.
“This tea is so tasty!” Shera was enjoying the tea they were served without a hint of timidness.
The white teacup held between her fingers was probably made of porcelain brought over from the countries to the far east, with just one set costing more than either of their yearly incomes. Rem suddenly became acutely aware that Shera was royalty, raised in the blessed forests of Greenwood, a veritable heaven on Earth.
The two of them waited alone for a while, until one of the trees drawn over the walls opened. It seemed there was a door there. A single man entered the room, without even one bodyguard accompanying him. The luxurious shawl he was wearing marked him as a duke of the kingdom of Lyferia.
Duke Noah Gibun.
He was a handsome man with golden hair and blue eyes, and surprisingly, the expression he wore wasn’t a cold one. In fact, his smile seemed quite mild and gentle. He looked more like a short-haired girl.
“Ah...”
Looking at him oddly reminded Rem of Diablo. They were entirely unlike each other, but perhaps it was how perfectly formed their facial features were. That was likely their strongest common point.
Rem rose from her seat and gave a ladylike bow. Right now, she wasn’t the adventurer Rem Galleu, but had the representative position of the wife and queen of the king of Greenwood, Diablo.
“Mm?” Shera tilted her head, still seated.
Without focusing on either one of the contrastive two, Noah bowed respectfully.
“I am called Noah Gibun. Honored to make your acquaintance.”
“I’m Shera L. Greenwood.”
“I terribly apologize for calling you over without any notice today. Please forgive my impoliteness.”
“It’s fine~”
Rem was struck with timidness at this all-too-natural exchange. If anything, she almost had to anxiously wonder if her standing on ceremony like this was out of place.
“...I’m Rem Galleu.” She finally stammered out her name.
Noah seemed surprised. Looking back, perhaps she should have said her title. Diablo was the king of Greenwood, so his full name would be Diablo Greenwood.
So, as his wife, her name would be...
Rem Greenwood?
Rem felt her cheeks flush over.
“What’s wrong?” Shera looked at her curiously.
“...I-It’s... nothing...”
Rem shook her head, banishing the odd delusion filling her mind.
Incidentally, the “L.” in Shera’s full name of Shera L. Greenwood marked her as part of the Greenwood royal bloodline. Diablo and Rem married into the royal family and weren’t descended from the royal line, so they weren’t granted it onto their names. Greenwood’s royal bloodline had an important meaning to it, so the clear distinction had to be made.
“What business do you have with us?” Rem asked.
“Regardless of His Majesty’s intentions, it is a rule that I talk things over with any of his guests first.” Noah smiled amicably. “It’s a formal matter, so please pardon me.”
“...I see.”
Noah’s gaze fixed on their necks.
“From what the rumors say, those are Enslavement Collars. Is that true?”
Rem’s hand inadvertently jumped to cover her collar. Hearing it pointed out again made her embarrassed all over again.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Shera, who never did care about the little things, nodded.
“In that case, is the rumor Sir Diablo’s ?Magic Reflection? put it on you two true as well?” Noah appended another question.
Rem rose to her feet, the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears.
“...Duke Gibun... Just who are you...?!”
His peaceful smile didn’t waver in the slightest.
“My every action is to ensure that the kingdom of Lyferia is peaceful and prosperous. And I am not lenient enough to forsake gathering information on an important person capable of matching a Demon Lord in strength.”
“Since when did...”
“Could you kindly answer my question first?”
Rem was a bit conflicted, but concluded that trying to keep things secret would be a pointless endeavor.
“...The rumors are true. We intended to enslave Diablo as we would a summon beast, but the Enslavement Ritual was reflected, and the collars clasped around us instead.”
She heard Noah whisper “fascinating.” He then answered the question.
“Since when have I put my eye on Sir Diablo, you ask? That would be when he repelled the Demon Lord’s army from Zircon Tower.”
“...I see.”
Many soldiers witnessed that fight, and the events of the war—regardless of its results—were reported in detail to the capital. Diablo had defeated countless Fallen with his powerful magic, and even defeated the Fallen’s general, who was considered immortal. It was natural he would draw their interest.
Rem brought a hand to her mouth. Soon after that battle, Diablo went to the capital to oppose the church’s Cardinal Authority.
“Is something bothering you?” Noah smiled thinly.
“...When Diablo came to the capital... When we fought to take the church back from the Cardinal Authority.”
“I’ve received a report regarding that, yes. Even His Majesty cannot interfere with the church’s business, so we’re quite grateful to you for saving the High Priest and for your assistance with normalizing the church.”
Rem recalled, “Back then, it was the Order of Palace Knights that assassinated the Cardinal Authority. If they were watching Diablo the whole time, it made sense they’d find this perfect opportunity to get rid of them... Which could mean... it was Noah that ordered their assassination?”
He remained smiling, awaiting Rem’s words. This was the royal castle. Saying just one wrong thing would turn this room into the equivalent of sitting in the pit of a monster’s stomach. Saying anything unnecessary would be dangerous...
A silence hung heavily over the room...
“Wow, this cake is great!” Only to be disturbed by Shera’s exclaiming. “Could I have another?”
The snapping of the strained tension that hung in the air was almost audible. Rem wondered what she was about to say...
“I’m glad you like it.” Noah smiled. “That apple tart is a reproduction of a flavor from my birthplace. I’ll have as many as you like prepared for you.”
“Yay! I’ll take some back for Diablo!”
Rem sighed, noting it would likely go bad during their five-day trip back to Faltra.
“...Whatever the case, we only came here because we were called. As both an adventurer and king of Greenwood, Diablo has no intent of opposing Lyferia. I think his putting his life on the line against the Demon Overlord proves that.”
“Yes, of course. We’re not suspecting Sir Diablo in the slightest. Like I’ve already said, he piqued our interest when he beat the Demon Lord’s army. And the summons this time are in light of his defeating the Demon Overlord... I’m sure His Highness wishes to extend words of praise toward him.”
“I see...” Rem patted her chest down with relief.
“...But there is one thing I’m dubious about,” Noah said, lowering his voice.
“Huh?”
“Those Enslavement Collars.”
“Wh-What about them?”
“To those without knowledge of your circumstances, they would look like ?Slave Collars?. If the kingdom of Greenwood were to dispatch slaves for the audience with His Majesty, it would come across as a rude act on par with declaring war.”
“Ah...”
Rem had considered that, but they had no way of removing them.
“No...” Shera’s expression clouded over with anxiety.
“But I am somewhat adept with magic,” Noah suggested. “I could make it so they would be invisible to the eyes of others. What do you say? I would need to ensure you weren’t given any strange orders, though.”
Shera had had her collar rendered invisible for the sake of a wedding ceremony before. At the time, it was the prime minister of Greenwood, Drango, that applied the obfuscation magic. It was apparently extremely advanced magic, and not something that could be easily imitated.
Rem considered the offer, and concluded there were no other options.
“...Understood.”
“Right!”
Shera agreed as well, and so it was decided. Noah nodded and reached out his right hand.
“Hmm... I see...”
The expression on his face was a grave one. They had felt as awkward as having invited a stranger into their home, but for Noah, it was just business. Without regard for one’s position or language, letting a person with an Enslavement Collar meet the king put the fate of the country at risk. What if they had been given orders to assassinate someone?
After confirming no odd orders were given, Noah used his obfuscation magic.
“?Disguise?.”
The moment Noah whispered that word, the collars were rendered invisible. That alone made it clear he was an even more skilled sorcerer than Drango. Even without regard to his position as minister, he was a very high-level sorcerer!
Touching the collar made it clear that it was still there, but the others couldn’t see it.
“Pardon me for the trouble.” Noah bowed. “I think this will spare us His Majesty’s anger and any misunderstandings on behalf of the ministers...”
Thud! The room suddenly shook. Rem’s expression turned suspicious.
“An earthquake?” Shera cocked her head.
“...There was only one tremor. It was like an explosion of magic.”
This room was particularly close to the center of the royal castle. If the tremors reached this far, it must have been a very large-scale explosion. And there weren’t many sorcerers capable of producing blasts that powerful.
Could it be Diablo?!
But he should have been in Faltra.
There was a knock at the door, and a nervous voice called out from outside.
“Milord, we have an urgent report!”
Noah bowed again, smiling at Rem and Shera.
“I apologize for the ruckus. It seems something has happened, so you’ll have to excuse me. I personally guarantee your safety in this place, so you have no cause for concern. Please spend your time comfortably until the day of your audience.”
“...We are adventurers. We can be of help to you.”
“Hmm. I do not know how business is handled in Faltra, but... In this castle, guests are to act as guests. Please leave matters to me and the imperial knights.”
His tone was polite, but the rejection in his words was clear.
“...I understand.”
Rem backed down. She didn’t want to antagonize him here. They would likely have to stay a few more days until their audience.
But what Rem didn’t know was that they would be summoned to the audience chamber that very night.
†
Needless to say, the explosion powerful enough to shake the entirety of the capital of Seven Wall was the result of the composite magic Diablo used to destroy the God of Destruction, Europa.
Diablo sat within the wavering carriage, which brought him to Castle Grandiose. It didn’t feel like this in the game, but it was grand indeed. A massive product of architecture. Just the sight of it uplifted the heart of man.
Diablo suddenly noticed that the structure of the walls was oddly distinct. The walls of Faltra, a frontier city, were made by piling up stones, the same as how medieval castle walls were made in Diablo’s own world. But Castle Grandiose’s walls had no seams, as if they were made out of concrete.
“...Hm.”
It never bothered him in the game, but this was another world. If a building existed, it was because someone erected, repaired and maintained it.
I guess, given that this world has guns, construction using concrete isn’t all that unusual.
The large man sitting opposite of Diablo—Maximum Abrams—asked, “Sir Diablo, just where did you gain so much power?”
His intellectual face clashed with his bulky, muscular body. His black hair was parted to the side, and he wore black-rimmed glasses.
“Hmph... An adventurer naturally gains strength as he travels.”
At least, that’s how it worked in the game.
“Perhaps, but you only registered as an adventurer last year. Were you an adventurer in another country before that...?”
They’d thoroughly looked into him. Diablo couldn’t help but feel irritated by that.
“Hmph...” Diablo scoffed in what was neither denial nor affirmation.
He doubted Maximum would believe him if he said, “I leveled up in the game and got summoned into this world in the shape of my in-game avatar.” Even Diablo himself didn’t understand the logic behind it yet.
“You looked into me... But you’re even more suspicious than I am. Where did you gain so much skill?” Diablo asked back.
The Order of Palace Knights was a gathering of skilled warriors. They were all certainly above level 100, and Maximum led them, so he had to have been powerful. And this world wasn’t like the game. There was no respawning after death, damage was real pain, and healing and recovery didn’t come down to a single click of the mouse. Diablo understood this well enough because he’d leveled up as a warrior in this world.
“Heheh...” Maximum’s lips contorted into a smile. “Same as you, I’d say.”
You’re a player, too?!
He’d almost let that slip, but realized this was a typical case of “luring in.” If he were to fall for this and let his tongue slip, he wouldn’t be capable of maintaining his Demon Lord role play.
If he was the same as him, Maximum would speak the tongue of his old world, but from the movements of his lips, Diablo could tell he was speaking Lyferia’s language. In other words, the fact he was needlessly using the language of this place proved he was without a doubt different from Diablo.
“Foolish nonsense.”
“Not necessarily. But you seem to have grounds to see me as different from you. Fascinating.”
“Hmph...”
Diablo stuck to his confident approach, but was struggling to hold back his surprise.
God damn, this guy’s dangerous!
“And I do wonder what basis you have to think... Oh, it seems we’ve arrived.”
The carriage stopped, and, as the door opened, Maximum got off first. A man with a long, red coat stood there at the ready: a blond Elf with a black sword.
“Do not do anything suspicious. If you try anything, I, Thanatos the Undying, will cut you down!”
His name sounded like the boasting of a delusional middle-schooler, but he may well have been immortal. Europa had in fact killed him once, but he returned unharmed.
“Thanatos, he’s a guest of His Highness right now, yes?”
“Yes, of course, but...” Thanatos backed down as Maximum glared at him.
Judging from this exchange, Maximum was likely quite skilled after all. A dangerous foe, to be sure, and one Diablo wasn’t interested in antagonizing.
“I am a busy man.” Diablo got off the carriage. “Hurry up and bring me to your king.”
“Well, I was merely ordered to ‘bring you over.’ The rest depends on His Highness.”
They were in the royal castle’s courtyard, a place Diablo had visited many times in Cross Reverie. Behind them were the great castle gates. Aside from Maximum and Thanatos, there was a surprising number of guards and stable boys around them. And before a moment could even pass, an old butler approached them and bowed.
“I thank you for coming, king of Greenwood—Your Highness, Diablo Greenwood.”
“Hmm.”
“The king of Lyferia, His Majesty Delouche Xandros, awaits you. Please, follow me.”
“An audience already?!” Thanatos couldn’t hide his surprise.
“I suppose His Highness knows the importance of these matters after all...” Maximum looked shocked as well.
His tone was polite, but his words carried a rather disrespectful nuance. Led by the old butler, Diablo made his way into the building. Maximum and his group didn’t follow.
“Phew...”
Diablo exhaled in relief. If he could help it, he’d rather not have to face Maximum. He doubted he’d lose to the man in a one-on-one, but it felt like he could see through his acting. And without his Demon Lord character, he could barely hold a conversation. If his acting were to be pointed out, he would only be able to reply with a lame stammering of “uuu” and “aaah.”
†
They advanced down a corridor lined with artwork. One would usually expect this kind of place to be full of paintings of beautiful women, or at least an equal measure of men and women, but all Diablo could see were sculptures and portraits of naked men. Handsome boys; well-proportioned, good-looking men; muscular machos...
“...Are these the king’s preferences?”
Diablo doubted he would get along with him if that were the case.
“Usually, you’d have to wait in the castle for several days...” the butler said in a confused fashion.
“Huh?”
“But this time, the king ordered to have you brought over at once, so I apologize deeply. A meeting between the king of Lyferia and the king of a neighboring country would usually have much more meticulous planning and preparation, I assure you.”
“Ah, no...”
Diablo was the one who refused the first request for an audience, and he eventually only came because Maximum dragged him over by holding Lumachina’s and Horn’s lives hostage.
“A meeting between the new kings of Lyferia and Greenwood. Such a historical event... According to tradition, we would spend a month summoning representatives from other countries, and hold the meeting in a special site capable of housing ten thousand people.”
“Heh, heheheh...”
If you did that, I’d run! Me, meeting a king in front of ten thousand people? Never!
Stopping in front of a large set of doors, the butler lowered his head.
“I’m greatly ashamed that we couldn’t make any preparations for your momentous meeting and can only hold it here in the audience chamber. But do pardon us, for the sake of prosperity between both our kingdoms.”
“Heh... It’s a trifling matter. I am not small enough a man to mind trivialities.”
He might have been acting the part of a Demon Lord, but he was a firm believer that peace was the best course of action. And the king of Lyferia, Diablo reasoned, should be aware of his strength, so it would likely be a harmless dialogue. At least, he hoped so.
The doors opened, revealing a red carpet. Heavily armored soldiers holding halberds stood on both sides of it, as were a number of the king’s subjects, like ministers and generals. And upon the podium was a throne occupied by a middle-aged man. He seemed to be in his late thirties. The Humans of Lyferia mostly lived into their sixties, so he was fairly young for a king. He didn’t have Galford’s powerful sense of presence, nor was he overflowing with magic.
I don’t know about his leadership skills, but, for an individual, he looks completely average.
Apparently, rumors of Diablo were already circulating, because the gathered ministers were whispering amongst each other.
“...Is that...?”
“The adventurer that defeated the Demon Overlord?”
“Look at those horns...”
“A mere Demon...”
He didn’t feel very welcome. Still, the minister standing right beside the king extended words of greeting.
“Welcome, Sir Diablo Greenwood.”
The minister had the appearance of a handsome, androgynous boy, or so Diablo thought. He had no way of knowing that this was Duke Noah Gibun, the effective prime minister of Lyferia, who decided most of the country’s policies in the king’s stead.
Diablo thought naming himself was the thing he had to avoid the most, and so he was grateful Noah saved him the trouble of doing so, breathing out in relief. That, however, resulted in some of the ministers audibly muttering, “the nerve of him...”, which made Diablo stiffen. Was there something he should have said right now? He didn’t let it be seen, but he was grinding his teeth together in suspense.
Well, what did you expect?! I’m a shut-in NEET gamer! How am I supposed to know how to act in the presence of a king?! You drag me here against my will and then act like I’m being disgraceful?! You’re the ones that need to be ashamed of yourselves! Though, I guess it is my fault for being ignorant...
Had it not been for his Demon Lord persona, he surely would have flinched and hung his head. He was always prone to depression. He had a veritable mountain of things to say, but didn’t want to spark a war between Lyferia and Greenwood. He’d have to put up with this.
The minister, Noah, moved things along.
“Firstly, we’ve summoned the people you’re most concerned about, Sir Diablo.”
“Mm?”
With Noah giving a signal, a different door opened, and two women walked into the room. A petite girl with black cat ears and a tail, and a blond Elf with overflowing bosoms.
†
It was Rem and Shera!
But they weren’t in their usual attire. They were clad in dresses that made them look like young ladies of nobility. Rem’s dress was the color of red wine and adorned with cute frills, while Shera’s was a light blue one that accentuated her large chest.
Frankly speaking, Diablo doubted his eyes. They were simply so unlike their usual selves, gorgeous and displaying proud dignity. And most of all...
Their collars are gone?!
Diablo was shocked. At the same time, Rem’s eyes widened in shock.
“...Di—”
“Diabloooooooo!”
Shera was the first to run to him. Apparently, she’d forgotten how she was dressed, and her chest jolted as she clung to him.
“H-Hey... Shera?!”
“Whoaaaaaa, Diablo! Diablo! Diablo!”
He could tell from the flow of her magical energy that the collar was simply rendered invisible. He could understand why, since they were in an audience chamber, but...
“Did something happen?!”
Her reaction was so extreme, Diablo started suspecting something had happened, but Shera shook her head.
“I’m just happy to see you again after so long!”
“O-Oh.”
“...You...” Rem heaved a sigh. “Consider the situation, won’t you? We’re in His Majesty’s presence.”
“Ah.”
It wasn’t just the king, but also many of his ministers, generals and guards. With all those gazes directed at her, even Shera couldn’t help but smile in embarrassment as she let go of Diablo.
It can’t be.
Diablo shivered on the inside. All the willpower he’d built up to face the king of Lyferia withered. That’s how it felt.
I guess I really am a normie who should go to hell, huh?
Rem clicked her heels together and bowed silently before the king.
“Your Majesty, King Delouche Xandros of Lyferia. It is with the most profound honor and pleasure that we make your acquaintance. I am Rem Galleu. The young lady over there is Shera L. Greenwood. We are both wives to Diablo.”
Her appearance and demeanor were almost mystifyingly elegant and dignified. Those who found fault with Diablo’s attitude had nothing to say in opposition to her. In other words, Rem’s perception of manners and etiquette was correct.
“Hmm.” The king gave a small nod.
With this, Noah began steering the conversation again.
“It seems that you’ve gone through much in recent times, with the Demon Overlord being revived and both Fallen and magical beasts running amok, but we are still glad to see you of Greenwood’s royal house reunited despite that.”
No, me avoiding this audience has nothing to do with the Demon Overlord. And you call it a happy reunion, but we’ve been acting separately because you ordered us to come here!
So he thought, but he didn’t let those words be anything more than thoughts.
“...We’re grateful for your concern and Lord Noah’s consideration.”
Again, not a complaint from the king’s retainers.
“Gotta hand it to Rem,” Shera whispered.
“Right.”
She always handled negotiating with the coaches and inns, she was knowledgeable when it came to camping out, and she even knew how to carry herself around royalty.
Isn’t she kind of really amazing?
He’d always thought she wasn’t a typical adventurer, but...
Noah went into the main topic.
“Sir Diablo, from what we’ve heard, you’ve earned quite a few achievements by engaging the Demon Overlord in battle at the city of Faltra...”
Diablo wasn’t sure how to answer that, but decided he’d answer as he always did. It would be better if those standing across from him were to perceive him as dangerous.
“Hmph...” he replied grandly. “Any who turn their blades against me will be annihilated, that’s all. Even if they’re the Demon Overlord.”
The retainers stirred. They’d heard the rumors, but seeing the person in question confirm it made things different, it seemed.
“So it was true.” “But they say he’s an elemental sorcerer?” “A hero...” “A Demon... I never would have imagined...” “But he’s not affiliated with the mage’s guild...”
Ridiculous, Diablo sighed to himself. Does your race or position really matter when you’re fighting an enemy? If that’s what his retainers are like, I guess you can only expect so much from the king. Aaah... I wanna go home already...
If he had to describe it, he wanted to go home as much as a new worker forced to work overtime for the first time, but by now, he felt like he was called in for work on his day off. Simply unbearable for a NEET.
“From what the reports say, you single-handedly charged inside the Demon Overlord when he assumed the form of a massive castle and subsequently defeated him?” Noah asked.
What changed the tide of battle was Diablo’s ?Gravity Abyss? spell, but what dealt him the most damage was Diablo reflecting the Overlord’s ?Flames of Ruination? spell back at him. And despite everything, what dealt the finishing blow was using an elixir, but Diablo doubted they would believe that. In the end, he decided there was no need to go into the small details.
“Hmph... It matters not what form my foe may take. I merely smote them down for the insolence of attacking my base.”
Unrest spread among the retainers again.
“‘My base’?”
“Did the king of a neighboring country just cite territorial rights as a reason to defend Faltra?”
Could you stop picking apart every little thing I say, you pedantic idiots?!
Rem hurried to the rescue.
“...Diablo may be the king of Greenwood, but he’s also an adventurer intent on defending the races! The city of Faltra is his base of operations!”
The whispers grew fainter.
“An adventurer?” “And he’s a king...?” “Greenwood does produce many mercenaries...” “The king himself?” “So an adventurer became a king...?” “Fitting for a small country, I suppose...”
Noah then asked, “I hear you beat the Demon Overlord with elemental magic, Sir Diablo?”
“Correct.”
In Lyferia, when one said magic, they mostly meant summoning. Elemental magic was perceived as weak and useless by most everyone.
†
Eventually, one of the people present stepped forward, a relatively young man with a glint in his eyes who was clad in a uniform adorned with a jumble of decorations.
“I find that impossible to believe!”
“Mm?” Diablo glared at him.
The man reacted by glaring back.
“I am a major of the Lyferian military, Harold William! It doesn’t matter how much you level up elemental magic, it can only match up to a large summon beast! And you defeating the Demon Overlord is a lie! Your Majesty, this man is a charlatan! I doubt the proud, haughty Elves would ever accept a Demon as their king to begin with!”
Which made sense, when he mentioned it... Diablo’s mannerisms and, indeed, his entire existence, were far removed from this world’s idea of common sense.
“It’s not a lie!” Shera argued. “Diablo is the king! B-Because he...m-m-married me!”
“The Elves are a slender race! I doubt this girl is even an Elf!”
“That’s mean!”
Shera seemed to take offense to that, because there were tears welling up in her eyes.
“...You’re right.” Rem’s eyes widened.
“Not you too, Rem?!”
“You horned Demon!” Major William approached Diablo with a smug smile. “If you claim your words are true, present some proof!”
“Don’t believe me if you don’t want to.” Diablo shrugged.
“What?!”
Diablo was used to people not believing him. People tend to look not at what they’re asking, but who they’re asking. And since he never had friends...
“If your claims are true, then I didn’t defeat the Demon Overlord nor am I Greenwood’s king. In which case, what reason was there to even call me here?”
Rem shrugged.
“...That would be the conclusion, yes. We have no reason to be graced an audience with His Majesty.”
Her tone was quite thorny. It seemed Rem was internally annoyed that Diablo and Shera were being cast into doubt.
“I’m leaving.” Diablo turned his back to the king.
Shera clung to his arm. “Don’t leave me here!”
The retainers were quite confused, but no one tried to detain them.
“Major William...?” Noah asked with a chilly voice.
The foul-eyed military man rushed in front of Diablo.
“W-Wait!”
“Hmph... Move away if you do not wish to come to harm, weakling.”
“Weakling?! You call me, who reached the rank of Major at the age of thirty, a weakling?!”
“Like I care.”
Diablo neither knew nor cared at which age it was impressive to reach which rank.
“Feeding the king lies is blasphemy!” William unsheathed his sword. “I will not spare you!”
“Kyaa?!” Shera took cover behind Diablo.
“...Let it be known you were the one who drew first.” Rem braced herself.
“What level are you, fool? Answer honestly if you value your life.” Diablo declared haughtily.
“Wh-What?!”
“Answer me. If your level is too low, my magic may blow you to bits.”
“You would insult a major of the great Lyferian military?! When you’re a useless elemental sorcerer and a despicable Demon!?”
William brandished his sword upward. Too slow. Was he level 40? That did make him an above average warrior in this world.
“Imbecile... ?Glacies Cannon?!”
It was a spell that launched a massive block of ice, but Diablo’s massive stores of magical energy produced a block that was far larger than an adult man. It took off with massive speed; if William were to be hit directly by it, he would likely lose all semblance of a human shape.
Diablo missed on purpose, so the spell would only hit William’s brandished sword. The block of ice then flew behind him, piercing the audience chamber’s wall with a thundering sound. But it didn’t end there. The walls looked to be made of concrete, but were apparently softer than imagined. Or maybe his Glacies Cannon was simply stronger than he knew, because it went on to pierce several more layers of wall.
The sight of the setting sun poured in through the hole. William sank to the floor, his eyes bloodshot and frothing from the mouth.
“Hiii, hiyaaaaaaaaaa?!”
He had pissed himself.
The other ministers were running around in a panic, as were the generals and armored soldiers, but the latter remembered their roles and stood with their swords and spears at the ready. Shera’s and Rem’s faces went pale.
“Di-Di-Diablo!”
“Wasn’t using such powerful attack magic in a place like this overdoing it...?!”
I figured it’d just crack the walls a little...
But a Demon Lord never wavers.
“Hmph... You call that attack magic?” Diablo scoffed in a confident façade. “That was a mere greeting. If I were to attack seriously, this entire castle would be wiped from the map.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. He had been the one to spur William, and perhaps he’d considered the situation, because he didn’t seem to be panicking.
“True to the rumors. According to reports, you present yourself not as a Demon, but by another title.”
“Mm.”
“A Demon Lord from another world.”
The retainers went into the largest frenzy yet. Some even screamed outright. Diablo gradually started panicking.
This is bad. I don’t have the conversation skills to calm this chaos down.
If a fight were to break out in the castle, he wasn’t confident he could defend Rem and Shera, and he didn’t want to needlessly kill any soldiers. All he wanted was to threaten them, scare them, and avoid battle that way!
He called out, “That’s right! I am Diablo! A Demon Lord from another world!” as he made the most villainous expression he could.
But internally, he was cradling his head in exasperation.
Aaaaah, I knew it would end up like this. I ended up calling myself a Demon Lord in front of the king of Lyferia. See, this is why I was trying to avoid this audience. Am I a criminal now? A menace to society? A wanted man? Dead or alive? Fare thee well, my easy other-world life, and hello and good day, my life on the run!
A rolling laughter filled the room.
And to everyone’s surprise, it came from someone who had been sitting so still and so silent that one might have suspected he’d actually been a mannequin all along—King Delouche Xandros.
“Kahahaha! A Demon Lord, are you?!”
“...”
Diablo glanced at the king.
“An adventurer and the king of Greenwood, a Demon Lord?” the king asked.
“That’s the truth of it. I’m not trifling enough to rely on lies and sneaking about.”
I’m just role playing as a Demon Lord, though...
“And it’s true you defeated the Demon Overlord Modinaram?” Delouche leaned forward.
“Enough of this. Shall I show you my true power?”
“No, no, I’ve seen more than enough. I’ve seen enough people boast and make a show of their strength, but it’s the first time I’ve seen Grandiose’s walls broken through enough to give me a view of the sky.”
“Hmph. Then all the ones you’ve seen so far have simply been that lowly.”
Though I guess another way of looking at it is that no one’s been crazy enough to bust down the walls, I guess...
“You’re an interesting man, Diablo. You call yourself a Demon Lord, but defend the races’ cities. A Demon Lord usually butchers the races, does it not?”
Have you tried offering them biscuits?
“Hmph... I’ve no interest in whether the races live or die.”
“So, Sir Diablo is a Demon Lord from another world,” Noah whispered. “So that means... He’s different from the Demon Lords of this world?”
“I see!” Delouche nodded in understanding. “In which case, Diablo! Will you serve me?”
“Huh?!”
His retainers went pale. Noah knitted his brows in a frown. Delouche, however, stuck to his opinion.
“I abhor tradition. Just who decided these formalities and regulations, and when? Where one lives, what they eat, even the language they’re allowed to speak—all of these things were decided ahead of time, long ago. Am I not king? Why must I bow to the decisions of past rulers?”
“...”
“No king in Lyferia’s history has ever had a Demon Lord serve them. Diablo, serve under me!”
The king was clearly excited.
“I...” Diablo opened his mouth to reply.
But before he could declare, I refuse, Noah proposed:
“His Majesty, Diablo is king of Greenwood, and a Demon Lord, even if he is from another world. Serving under a king means allowing another country to rule his own. Remember that saying things that would disturb the peace and create diplomatic friction will do you no good.”
“However!”
“I don’t believe any past king has ever brokered peace with a Demon Lord either, Your Majesty. Even without his servitude, I believe that would be more than enough to etch your name in history’s annals.”
“...Hmph... Indeed.”
Diablo was relieved to see the excitement die down, as were the king’s retainers. Rem and Shera sighed in relief, too.
“What should I do then?” Delouche asked Noah.
“I recommend that you start by acknowledging Diablo as king of Greenwood and affirm that the two countries’ amity stands strong.”
“And what else? Is there no way to make it known to the lords of the surrounding countries that I have brokered peace with a Demon Lord?”
Noah pondered for a short while.
“Sir Diablo is an adventurer, as well. How about he completes a request in your name? There is the matter from this morning.”
“Oh!” Delouche’s expression lit up. “Splendid idea, Noah!”
Ugh, this looks like it’s going in an annoying direction. Still, it’s better than being chased out of the kingdom like a criminal and having war break out between Lyferia and Greenwood.
Shera listened quietly, and Rem spoke in place of Diablo, who wasn’t much for holding a discussion.
“...So you acknowledge Diablo as an adventurer and wish to make a request of him, Your Majesty?”
“Indeed!”
Noah explained the details:
“Our southern frontier fortress, Caliture, has recently fallen to an assault by wild beasts.”
“...Caliture,” Rem said, a noticeable shiver in her voice.
“Saving a city of the races from an assault by beasts—the very image of an adventurer’s task,” Noah continued. “However, the enemy was strong enough to topple two of the kingdom’s fortresses garrisoned by our soldiers. A giant spriggan has appeared, as well... It will be no easy task.”
All traces of expression drained from his face, leaving the impression of him wearing a mask.
A spriggan, huh.
In Cross Reverie, spriggans served as guards that prevented players from going into important areas. The fact that one attacked a fortress of the races was quite different from anything that happened in the game.
“...What should we do, Diablo?” Rem asked anxiously.
The enemy sounded strong, but being branded a criminal, starting a war, or becoming servant to the king sounded like overall worse options. He wasn’t exactly one for living in luxury in another world, but he wanted to wake up whenever he wanted, eat whenever it struck his fancy, and take quests from time to time.
And he’d finally become free. Why would he have to cast aside that easy life and take a job now?! He hated talking to other people, so showing up for work was almost impossible for him.
“It is bothersome, but... Well, if you offer a quest, I suppose I shall accept it.”
Rem nodded and shifted to the actual negotiations.
“...And what would be our reward?”
“Of course, we’ll prepare a suitable sum for your work. I hear that Greenwood recently fell under attack from the Fallen and suffered considerable losses. What say you that the king of Lyferia will send monetary aid to your kingdom? Rest assured, it will be a sum that any country will certainly be pleased to receive.”
“...We thank you for your sympathy.”
Noah’s offer was said so promptly that it almost sounded like he had planned for this ahead of time.
“Nn...” Shera cast down her eyes.
She would always babble without thinking too much about what she was saying, so seeing her swallow her words was an unusual sight.
“Very well!” Delouche clapped. “Diablo, go forth and exterminate the beasts attacking Caliture!”
The conclusion was clear, and, normally, one would simply bow their head and leave.
However!
Diablo pulled out his ?Tonnerre Empereur?.
“Hmph!”
“Hmm?”
Delouche tilted his head quizzically, while Noah was the first to be filled with a sense of suspense.
“Wh-What are you doing, Sir Diablo?!”
Even if it had all been decided, he wouldn’t be a Demon Lord if he let this slide. He aimed his staff at the king.
“Make no mistake! I am not obeying your orders. I merely lend you my strength since you requested it. Do not delude yourself into thinking you have a Demon Lord in your service!”
“Di...”
“...ablo?!”
Rem and Shera were shocked. Noah’s shoulders trembled as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
“...Kh.”
There were some among the king’s retainers who seemed ready to leap at Diablo already. Murderous tension filled the room... Except for Delouche. The king grinned broadly.
“Kahaha! Wonderful! I’ll commit it to memory! But don’t forget, I am the king of Lyferia—ruler of the races! Never will I tremble before a Demon Lord!”
“Hmph... I see that you’re not a coward who hides in the safety of his castle.”
“I will have you show me that the power that defeated the Demon Overlord is real.”
“Hmph. Who do you think you’re talking to?!”
The two glared at each other with indomitable smiles on their lips. Diablo then turned his back and made to leave the audience chamber.
“Ah, wait for meee!” Shera tottered after him in a half-jog.
Rem regarded the king with a flustered bow and took off after them. While the king saw them off with a smile, Noah’s expression was as cold as ice.
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