Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume 23 - Chapter 11.2

Badigadi

A PERFECT OPPORTUNITY! Allow me to talk about the past a little. I’m gonna tell you about a guy who thought he was clever. Wrongly. Everyone around him was a complete moron, so he’d been misled. His companions, his older sister—whose power was nothing in comparison to his own, by the way—and even the monarch he and his peers were supposed to love and respect. Everyone around him lacked any sense. It was only natural that he assumed he had wits.

You see, everyone in his tribe was—as a rule—an idiot. What made him different was that he tried to expand his intelligence. He understood the logic behind certain things, could correctly predict what people were thinking, and was skilled at uncovering the solutions to problems.

The man’s father called him the prodigy of prodigies, born only once in ten thousand years. He was even given the epithet Demon King of Wisdom. No wonder he thought he was clever, hm?

What’s that? You would argue that if he really was more clever than everyone he knew, then he wasn’t wrong? Fwahahaha! Now that’s an assumption!

Think about it for a moment: If one man in a sea of fools is just a little smarter than the rest of them, can you really say he’s clever? No, you can’t! The fact he didn’t see it himself proves he wasn’t such a genius!

We’re getting off track. I’m telling a story, here!

At the time, humans and demons were locked in a conflict that’d later be called the Second Great Human-Demon War. It was little more than a skirmish when compared to the later Laplace War.

Our long lifespans make us demons a patient lot, so our invasions are slow-paced. We are laid-back even when it comes to losing the pivotal battles in a war, thereby giving the humans the time to recover and rally against us once more. Winning a battle is less important than winning the overall war.

Our dipshit hero joined the Demon King army, where he was given the position of tactical adviser. He saw how his people were engaging in the war and was dismayed. Things couldn’t continue like this. If they really wanted to win, they needed to commit to a more aggressive offense—to take key locations in enemy territory.

What do you know? No one wanted to listen to him. They were all idiots, after all, unable to understand the logic of war! Fwahahaha!

Anyway, one day—yes, I’m being vague, but it wasn’t a special day otherwise. It was out of the blue, really. Or was it? Maybe something had happened to precipitate the event, but our protagonist wasn’t bright enough to figure out the cause.

Anyway!

One day, the man started having a recurring dream. A person appeared in it, someone whose gender was indiscernible, whose very appearance was as indistinct as a shadow. Barely a wisp of a dream. This person called themselves the Man-God. Quite literally, the god of the humans.

The man immediately asked why the god had come to him. Was it to kill him?

The god said, “I’m a god, you realize. Everyone who lives in the world is like a child to me. I would never dream of killing you. In fact, seeing how hard you’ve been working, I’d like to help you out.”

So, a lunatic.

The man was naturally suspicious of this god, but the god still offered him a small word of advice before disappearing. Inconsequential, easy-to-follow advice: he said to send some troops—even a few would be fine—to the Galgau Ruins.

Now, our protagonist was serious to a fault. He knew there was a Demon King already situated at the ruins with their troops. He didn’t see much need to send extra troops since it hardly seemed like a vulnerable position, but he nonetheless followed the advice given and deployed some of his troops there.

When they arrived, it was a shocking sight. The Galgau Ruins had already turned into a battlefield. The demons found themselves outnumbered, but the humans hadn’t expected the man to arrive with reinforcements. He hadn’t brought many with him, but they were just enough to topple the enemy’s formation. The man wound up saving the Demon King army’s most central Demon King. The victory bolstered his influence.

It was a dream from there.

The man manipulated the Demon King army from behind the scenes with his cleverness. He assumed control of the humans’ territories at an alarming speed. He also curried favor with the beastfolk, who were considered a subset of demons at the time, and convinced them to join hands with the demons. Those weren’t the only allies he won over, though. The man even managed to bring the sea people into the fold. Together, their armies steadily gained territory. It was only a matter of time until the humans were wiped out completely. The man was grateful to the god. Thanks to that god, our protagonist would soon be able to avenge his great and noble father.

It never happened.

I remember it like it just happened moments ago.

The strategy our protagonist had come up with was flawless. There hadn’t been a single hole in it, reflecting back. Fwahaha! I’m exaggerating a little, my memory isn’t perfect. One thing still escapes me. What I can tell you is this: the man’s plan was perfect and if it’d succeeded, the man could have established a bridgehead to Asura Kingdom. The humans would have nowhere left to run. Victory was certain. That was how perfect it was.

Then, one crucial aspect failed.

It was strange. His army was superior in raw numbers and strength. In fact, he and his troops had a better grasp of how crucial this battle was. The humans were oblivious. That was precisely why the fortress the demons attempted to invade had so few people guarding it. These facts assured the man he couldn’t lose.

And yet, he did.

It was a massacre. People throw that word around, but I mean it. It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t neat, they all died, and every death was the nasty kind. There wasn’t a single survivor.

The man was horrified when saw the gory aftermath. His men numbered over ten thousand, but they had all been butchered. He couldn’t begin to fathom how the slaughter had happened. The only thing clear was that it seemed to be almost entirely the work of one single human. It was the same brutal technique, over and over again.

The man realized a tremendous monster had been born among the humans—or from their perspective, a hero, I guess. During the First Great Human-Demon War, a similar hero had appeared and expelled the demons with overwhelming might. Our foolish protagonist had heard the story, which was how he recognized the culprit this time was similar.

That was the turning point. After that, no matter what the man did, nothing went right. This hero would interfere and impede every last plan he made. It was all that hero’s fault.

Hm? You ask how he knew? No, no, it’s explained easily enough. Not all of those troops were killed in every battle, so he was able to gather information from the survivors. He discovered even the humans weren’t quite sure what this hero of theirs was. He was a man clad in golden armor who appeared suddenly in battle to lead the humans to victory. That was the only intel they had.

People called the man “Golden Knight Aldebaran.”

Aldebaran commanded such overpowering might that he could completely turn the tide of battle, giving the humans momentum.

It was ridiculous. No matter how much our guy racked his intelligence, no matter how complex and well thought-out his plan, he was always overcome by the human hero’s unsurpassable strength.

People called it the Second Great Human-Demon War, but it wasn’t an overstatement to say the war really was just between the demons and the man Aldebaran. Midway through the whole conflict, the man stopped bothering with his armor at all. He still managed to overpower us.

The demons couldn’t win against Aldebaran. Our protagonist lost every major battle after that. The human army drove his forces back until they were routed to the demons’ last bastion of defense, Kishirisu Castle.

Back then, our demon hero had a strong sense of duty. He was convinced it was entirely his fault that they were in the current mess. They had lost so many brave Demon Kings. His sister, one of the strongest of all the Demon Kings, was even rendered powerless in the course of all of this. They had lost all of the territory they had conquered in the course of the war. All of that was his fault. Oh, how presumptuous he had been.

That wasn’t true in hindsight. There was no need for him to feel responsible for losing to such a powerful adversary. What he should have done was cut his losses and run like the rest of the Demon Kings, hunkering down in his region to eke out a quiet life.

Guilt didn’t change much. The war was over, and the demon army fell to pieces. It was only a matter of time before the humans took all of the demons’ territory from them.

It was then that a woman that our protagonist had always thought the most foolish of all said to him, “This isn’t your fault. I will take care of the rest—stop troubling yourself.”

She was the monarch he and the others were supposed to love and respect—an uninhibited free spirit who lived exactly the way she wanted. The man was openly hostile to her. Fwaha! But deep down, you see, he was madly in love. Why had this Demon King of Wisdom pushed himself past his limits as a tactical advisor? Love, of course! To make this woman—his beloved—happy.

It was only at the end of it all that he realized this truth. That was when he prayed to the god.

Please, help this woman. Help us demonfolk. I’ll do anything in return, I swear.

That very night, after he said that prayer, the unsettling being appeared in his dreams once more. He still couldn’t tell whether the being was male or female, nor could he discern any of their features. But the god grinned at him and waved a hand, almost like an old friend flagging him down on the side of the road.

“Heya,” said the god.

The man was naturally wary. Why had this god—a human god—arrived to answer the prayers of a demon like him?

As if to answer his doubts, the god said, “Aldebaran is a terrible Fighting God, you see. I’m at as much of a loss about this as you. At the rate things are going, your beloved queen and the rest of the demons will meet a grim fate.”

There was something odd about that in hindsight. Why would a human god be troubled by something as trivial as the extinction of the demon race? But the man was too desperate to listen to his better judgment. He was grasping at straws for anything to turn this all around.

“What should I do?” he asked.

The Man-God lips curled into a smarmy, conniving smile. “Follow my exact instructions.”

So, the man set off on a journey. It may be hard to believe now, but he was frail at the time, all skin and bones. He was an immortal demon, so he walked without rest or sleep. He weaved his way right through the human army, passed through over ten forests, crossed over five rivers, and climbed over three whole mountains. Then, finally, he delved into the very depths of a labyrinth that no longer exists. That was where he found it: a single, purple-colored vial. It had been ordinary medicine once, but the thick mana permeating the labyrinth had altered it.

“That is special Anti-Demon Eye elixir. If you drink that, no demon eye will be able to see you.”

Perhaps this had been something originally intended to fall into the hands of another of the human’s heroes—it could have created a second on the level of Aldebaran. This elixir would have created a weakness in the most powerful leader of the demons, Emperor Kishirika Kishirisu.

This elixir’s effects would continue until their death. Knowing that, the man gulped it all down. Then he began running again. He passed through endlessly deep valleys, a blizzarding meadow, and at the end, he climbed the world’s largest mountain.

It was there that he found the second thing he was looking for: a suit of golden armor. It glittered from head to toe, but it didn’t look ridiculous. No, this armor was sinister, with the power to bewitch all who gazed upon it. This fearsome armor had been hidden within such a steep mountain, sealed away far out of sight.

“Whoever dons this armor will have invincible power,” the god had told him.

It bears repeating: the man was an idiot. He didn’t stop to think why this armor had been sealed away—why someone had hid it here. It was the height of arrogance to call himself the Demon King of Wisdom. Demon King of Stupidity would have fit him much better.

The man followed the Man-God’s instructions and released the seal binding the armor. The seal was rather complex, but appropriately for a self-proclaimed Demon King of Wisdom, removing wasn’t all that difficult. Once he’d removed it, he donned the armor…and lost control.

The armor was indeed powerful. It was imbued with such a surplus of mana that it had developed a consciousness of its own. Not that the man noticed this at first. He was too drunk on the power that poured out of the armor and into him. He was convinced that with this, he would be able to take Aldebaran down.

I’ll butcher that Aldebaran and then slaughter the rest, he thought.

If it’s not obvious, he was immediately thrown out of his right mind. The man was normally useless when it came to battle, but he found himself driven by a thirst for it. He moved as swiftly as the wind. He leapt down from the behemoth of a mountain, crossed the valley, the blizzarding meadow, three more mountains, five rivers, and ten forests. He routed the enemy army and returned at last to his beloved’s side.

I made it, he thought. The woman he adored was still alive. She had fought, she was beaten to the cusp of death, but she was alive.

Who was it she’d fought against? Hm, this may be a bit difficult to explain, but it was not actually Aldebaran who stood opposing her. In a certain sense, the opponent was the same as Aldebaran, but not exactly. You see, the human known as Aldebaran—the golden knight who appeared in the initial battle that changed everything—was already dead by this point.

The enemy who stood against them was Dragon God Laplace. Demonic Dragon God Laplace, if you want his full title. Our protagonist knew of him.

Dragon God Laplace lived a secluded life in the distant mountains, only occasionally descending to the village below to teach people martial arts. He was a mild-mannered individual whom the immortal demons had long warned their children and their children’s children not to contradict. That was really all the man knew of Laplace.

This Laplace was trying to kill the woman our protagonist loved, for some reason. Had the man been in his right mind, he might have paused to consider what motivated the Dragon God—at least demanded an explanation. He could have used his intellect to talk Laplace down, to avoid combat completely.

Alas, the man’s bloodlust overcame him. When he saw his beloved was wounded, fury seized him. The man let out a roar of a kind that had never escaped his throat before or since, then flung himself at Laplace.

The Dragon God was taken aback. Of course he was. His opponent wore the armor he was sure no one would ever find. Worse, no demon eye could perceive him. The man’s title as Demonic Dragon God was not simply for show, however. He was the lone surviving king of the ancient dragon race—a person whom the man’s own people dared not to oppose.

If the man had faced Laplace with his regular strength, their battle would not have even lasted a few seconds. In fact, with the first attack, the Dragon God had managed to chop off the man’s arms and behead him as well. Had the man not been wearing that suit of armor, it would have ended there. Had the man not been an immortal demon, it would have all been over in that exact moment. Those are mere hypotheticals, because the man was wearing the suit of armor. He was an immortal demon.

New limbs sprang forth from what remained of the man’s body and the armor automatically repaired itself. It forced the man’s body to move—to fight—even as his consciousness was half gone.

It was a fierce battle.

If Laplace had miscalculated anything, it was that he never imagined someone besides his chosen donning the armor he had, himself, created.

The man had no way of fighting, but the armor did. It had trained with all sorts of weapons, had imitated many different martial arts, could analyze the flow of battle. It possessed a repertoire of over a thousand secret techniques and was able to select whichever was most optimal for the situation. Among its secret techniques were, of course, some that the Demonic Dragon God had spent many long years creating himself.

Ironic, right?

I have no idea what Laplace must have been thinking to develop this technique, but he’d come up with one that was incredibly fatal to himself. When used against him, it split Laplace in half.

The man had defeated the most powerful opponent in the world and protected the woman he loved. Wonderful, no? What a happy ending! Fwahahaha!

Well…actually, the story continued. But let a man dream a little.

Why wasn’t it over? Because the man wasn’t done after he’d bested Laplace. The armor had overtaken his consciousness, transforming him into a monster controlled entirely by his own bloodlust. 

By the time the man came to once more, he had already driven his sword through the very heart of his beloved. He had no idea why his consciousness had returned. Perhaps the woman had used the last of her strength to return him to his senses, or perhaps the irrevocable act of plunging his weapon through her had produced such shock that he’d come back on his own.

Regardless of the how, it was too late. The man had killed his beloved with his own two hands.

“Ah… Ah…” He whimpered, his voice not even forming coherent words.

All he had ever wanted was to protect this woman.

“Fwa…haha…” The woman was different. She laughed, in spite of the circumstances—in spite of being betrayed by someone she trusted—she laughed. “You haven’t changed… Still the same old puckered face… Such a boring man you are… Laugh.”

“Huh?”

“No matter what’s happening…just laugh.”

“But I… You…”

“I don’t mind,” she assured him. “You are too serious for your own good… Too sour faced. Always holing up in your room…never drinking any ale…never sleeping…! What’s so fun…about that? Belt out some laughter…sleep with some women.”

“Women?” He shook his head. “But I…I am in love with you!”

“Fwahaha…what are you saying? Then you should…try being more cheerful… Do that and…I’ll marry you.”

“Y-yes. I’ll do my best.”

“All right…then in our next lives, I’ll…be your betrothed. Fwahaha… Fwaha…” The woman laughed right up to the very end. Yes, she let out a hearty cackle—one that echoed around the two of them. “Fwahahaha! Fwaha, fwaha, fwahahahaha!”

Light wrapped around the two as their lives faded from the world.

Hm? Skeptical about the light? A little too pretty? Hardly! That rotten Laplace had made his body explode. That vindictive ass had thought about what to do if he were killed. He’d prepared a special art to use as he lay at death’s door, one that would split the smallest particles of his body upon his death—the Laplace factor—which would spread out across all the matter in the world, biding its time. Unfortunately for him, the Man-God had come up with a scheme to combat this. The secret technique the armor had deployed against him rendered his art incomplete. When his body was split, half of the mana intended to perform this technique was missing. It spun out of control, exploding—a terrible, but not totalizing, destruction. The immortal Laplace died.

Okay, okay, it was a little more complicated than that. He was split in half—into the Demon God and Technique God respectively. But the being that called himself Demonic Dragon God Laplace was no more. Fragments of him lived, but the whole being as he’d existed was dead.

As for our protagonist—even though he’d died, he was still an immortal demon. It took some years for him to fully recover, but he did. Until then, however, he remained unconscious, lost in a fleeting dreamworld.

It was there that he met the Man-God again.

“Hehe… Ahahahaha!” The Man-God snickered at him mockingly. “Demon King of Wisdom? How ridiculous! You danced in the palm of my hand and killed the woman you claimed to love! You’re nothing but an empty-headed puppet!”

The Man-God knew from the start. He knew that when the man retrieved that armor, that he would fight Laplace, lose consciousness, and kill his beloved. He’d coaxed our protagonist into trusting him. He’d manipulated him. All knowing from the very first how it would end.

“Ah, this is always so enjoyable, no matter how many times I do it. It’s the best feeling in the world…getting to see the idiotic look on your face right now. I wanted this all along!”

The Man-God humiliated the man.

“Well, see ya. I don’t think I’ll use you again, but I wish you a long life all the same, O Demon King of Stupidity.”

That was the last thing the Man-God said before he disappeared.

***

“And now you want me, a ‘Demon King of Stupidity,’ to lend you a hand?” he demanded, now that he was back in that empty dream world.

“Yep. Well, see, you’re an immortal demon unlike the rest of ’em. Your lady love is still alive and you’re enjoying your life right now, no? You don’t hold a grudge, do you?”

“You have a point. But this time, the story might be different. Maybe our protagonist and his lady love just…disappear. Forever.”

“No, c’mon, that won’t happen. I’m in a bind. I wouldn’t screw you over in a situation like that. I’ll even apologize… Just lend me your power, would you? See how sincere I am?” The Man-God—the being that was neither man nor woman, not even corporeal enough to have distinguishing features—bowed his head.

“Hm.”

The gesture was casual, carrying very little sincerity at all despite the Man-God’s insistence. But it was most definitely an apology. The Man-God hardly seemed the type to say sorry, given that he only cared about degrading people. It’d be expected for him to brag about his exploits, certainly, but apologizing? Out of character. And yet here he was, bowing.

“What do you plan on doing if I don’t lend you my strength?” asked the man.

“Then I’ll die. Not immediately, but in the distant future.”

The man contemplated. Yes, the Man-God had deceived him. Following the Man-God’s advice had caused their invasion of the humans to proceed at a faster pace, awakening the sleeping lion among them. Later, the armor possessed the man and caused him to kill the woman he loved more than anything in the world. The Man-God had toyed with his devotion, making a mockery of him. He knew the Man-God must have known what would happen—must have foreseen the look of despair on the man’s face, the pathetic sight of him sobbing as he lost it all. He laughed as if all of this were a game to him.

He should have resented the Man-God until the end of his days.

But the proud Demon King army was no more. The man was no longer a tactical adviser. He was nothing more than a lone Demon King.

“I did help you with that man, if you’ll remember.”

“Yes, I am grateful for that,” our protagonist admitted.

“See?”

That advice had not been given to Badi directly, but rather fed to him through someone else. A stranger had offered him two bits of information, both of which led in a promising direction. It was only afterward that the man thought to ask the stranger how they’d gotten the information. They answered, “This god I saw in a dream told me to inform you.” The man’s expression had turned bitter upon hearing that.

Regardless, the man was grateful. That advice had allowed him to help both a tribe of demons who had once resided in his region and the hero they idolized. The latter had looked so happy when he was reunited with them. The man would not soon forget the look on his face.

“So… C’mon, please,” the Man-God entreated, bowing his head again.

“Hmm.”

The man continued to consider the issue. Even though the Man-God had done him some small service, it could not erase the unforgivable sins he’d committed. On the other hand, was there anything in the world that was entirely beyond redemption? Perhaps for other people, but he was an immortal demon. He hadn’t known it at the time, but the woman he loved had a fate strong enough that death couldn’t hold her back. The two of them had survived that miserable episode.

It should be said that, had the man been younger, he would have dismissed the Man-God’s request immediately. If anything, he would have aligned himself on the opposing side, hoping to get revenge for all the pain and humiliation he’d once suffered.

He’d changed, however.

The Demon King of Wisdom—conceited oaf that he was—was dead. The man had trained his body, laughed loudly, slept with women, got hammered, and slept with his body sprawled out and taking as much space as possible no matter who it inconvenienced. He had become someone truly deserving of the woman he loved.

He was no Demon King of Wisdom. He was not so weak and pathetic he needed to rely on a god’s advice to protect his beloved. He was now the Immortal Demon King Badigadi, master of Rikarisu—the town where the remnants of Kishirika’s old castle jutted up toward the sky—and king of the Biegoya Region. He was not someone who held grudges over trifles. He was broadminded and magnanimous.

A puny demon with no strength whatsoever had challenged him, and he had admitted defeat. On top of that, his sworn enemy had come to him to offer an apology as well. He had no choice.

“Fwahaha! Very well! If you are that insistent, then I suppose I will help you!”

“You mean it? Ugh, that’s a relief!”

With that, Badigadi became one of the Man-God’s disciples.

***

“So then, who is our enemy?” Badigadi asked.

“Our enemy is the Dragon God Orsted.”

“Aha.”

The Man-God added, “But the one we’ve really got to defeat is his underling, Rudeus Greyrat.”

“The boy with the ridiculous mana pool?”

Badigadi had spent only one short year with Rudeus. Kishirika had told him of the boy whose mana pool surpassed even that of the Demon God Laplace, and that had garnered his interest. He was keen on meeting Laplace once his reincarnation had arrived. In the end, the boy hadn’t been Laplace; he was simply possessed of incredible magical power. It was a curiosity, but the boy was otherwise unremarkable.

“Fwahahaha! So that boy’s become the Dragon God’s underling, has he? What could have happened to make him that stony man’s errand boy? How amusing!”

The Man-God shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’ve got no idea.”

“Hmph. So you say. I’ll bet you deceived the boy and turned him into a vengeful demon, didn’t you?”

“Well, it’d be kind of a pain to explain it all, but… Yeah, guess you’re not wrong.”

“Fwhahaha! What goes around comes around, then!” The man let out a hearty laughter, mocking the god the same way the god had once mocked him.

The Man-God looked particularly annoyed by the ridicule. Still, he had no choice but to swallow his displeasure. Badi had agreed to become his pawn, so he had what he wanted.

“No matter,” said the Man-God. “Geese is the one coming up with the specifics. You just need to cooperate with my other disciples and lure Rudeus into a trap.”

“Yeah? You’re not gonna fight him fair and square?”

“It’s better to win without a head-on confrontation if you can help it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

If he’d been the same man who’d called himself the Demon King of Wisdom, then he likely would have nodded without a moment’s hesitation. However, he was now the Demon King of Stupidity—the Immortal Demon King Badigadi. He was the type to let his opponent attack first, withstand the blow, then return it with a counter of his own to take them down. Rudeus would have called him something of a pro wrestler.

“I don’t like it,” said the man.

“Knowing how you are now, I figured you’d say that. You understand better than anyone though, don’t you? That if you try to take on the Dragon God in a fair fight, you have no chance of beating him.”

“No chance whatsoever, yup.”

The Man-God went on, “That’s precisely why I’d like you to head to a certain location for me and retrieve something.”

“I assume you don’t want me to weave through a human army, pass through more than ten forests, cross more than five rivers, climb up more than three mountains, pass over a valley of unknown depths, through a blizzarding meadow, and scale the world’s tallest mountain…do you?”

“No, nothing like that. You just need to cross one ocean. That’s all.” After saying that, the Man-God smiled. “Of course, what I am asking you to retrieve is something you’re quite familiar with already.”

Badigadi knew instantly what it was that rested in the depths of the ocean. Something he should have detested with the whole of his being. But if they were going to take on the Dragon God, never mind harbor any hope of defeating him, then it would be absolutely necessary.

“Hmm… Fine. I shall do it!” Badigadi spent only a moment waffling about the matter before agreeing. 

He was the Immortal Demon King Badigadi, after all—Kishirika Kishirisu’s fiancé. He wasn’t so small-minded he would sweat the details. He had agreed to serve under Geese if he could beat him in a drinking contest. He’d made a pact and gotten his apology, so it was fine.

To a Demon King, a contract was absolute. Perhaps that seemed superficial in light of how the Man-God was still a liar, but the fact was that he had agreed to this. If the Man-God wanted him to retrieve that detestable thing, bring it back, and use it to defeat the Man-God’s enemies, then there was nothing to hesitate about.

“And you have no other advice for me?” The man asked.

“Unfortunately, my vision counts as a kind of demon eye. I cannot see your future since you drank the Anti-Demon Eye elixir.”

“Aha, I see then! Good news for me! After all, life would be boring if you could see exactly where it ends! Fwahahaha!”

Badigadi was boisterous and cheerful. The heartier his laughter, the more the Man-God’s face puckered with displeasure.

“I may not be able to see your future,” the Man-God said, “but I can see another man’s future. He’s not as clever as you, perhaps, but clever enough, and he can fight even though he’s not physically strong. Follow his instructions.”

“Fwahahaha, you mean that scrawny man with the monkey face? Very well! I’ll be his right hand man for you!”

“Excellent. So, Demon King of Wisdom Badigadi—”

“No,” the man corrected, “I am that man no longer. I am the Demon King of Stupidity—the Immortal Demon King Badigadi!”

“In that case, Immortal Demon King Badigadi, I entrust this to you.”

The man nodded vigorously. “Yes, you can leave it all to me! Fwaha! Fwahaha! Fwahahahahahahaha!”

Their business was concluded. With his own laughter ringing in his ears, Badigadi’s vision bleached to white.

“Fwahahahaha!”

He watched the disgusted face of the Man-God with great pleasure, and even as his consciousness faded, his laughter did not.