Someone once said that those who don’t know the struggles on the front lines are not fit to be in positions of power.
However, the same people also say:
“Who would want a boss who knows the struggles of those below them?”
In reality, truly exceptional individuals who can rise to the top through sheer effort are rare.
This might be a common social structure within artisan communities, but it’s not the norm for society as a whole.
Opportunities to advance are limited, and those who reach the top are conveniently provided with shortcuts.
“Now, my dear pus-filled nobles, are you ready to be sent to the guillotine?”
But, wouldn’t it be incredibly fortunate if there were a boss who knew the struggles of those below them and intended to reward them for those struggles?
The Demon Lord, having suffered immense losses that could not be described as mere internal strife, gazed down from his throne at the foolish nobles who had become a wasteful expense to him, the so-called Aristocratic Union.
Normally, they would have exchanged a few frivolous words, but on this occasion, they could only groan, none daring to retort.
The nobles, who usually flaunted their wealth with ostentatious clothing as a display of status, were now gagged and dressed in rags like prisoners.
It was evident that they had not been sent directly from the battlefield; signs of mistreatment during their escort were visible on their bodies.
While not all mistreatment was permissible, these nobles, bearing visible malice and resentment, still glared at the Demon Lord, their hatred undiminished.
Their defiance seemed to mock the very notion of readiness.
Their pride in having been the ones to run this country.
Their arrogance in believing the throne was not meant for him.
Even under the weight of such combined gazes, the Demon Lord did not flinch.
“I see. So that is your answer. I will at least remember that you maintained your pride to the very end.”
The faces assembled there were the cream of the crop among the Aristocratic Union.
In other words, they were the great nobles who took the lead in forming the anti-Demon Lord army.
If their heads were to roll, the territories they governed would fall into chaos, signifying a weakening of the Demon Lord’s Army.
At the very least, it would mean leaving behind no dissenting elements.
However, to simply pardon those who committed the grave sin of rebellion was out of the question.
Therefore, the Demon Lord would deliver his judgment.
As a demonstration to all, of the fate that awaited those who foolishly opposed him.
He rose from his throne.
And slowly approached them.
Along the way, a Royal guard soldier offered a crude execution sword, which the Demon Lord accepted.
“This is my mercy.”
With that, the Demon Lord personally beheaded the nobles, one by one.
Normally, a king would not have to do such a thing.
Indeed, it could be said that he shouldn’t.
Yet, the Demon Lord took matters into his own hands, and none of his subordinates dared to object.
After the killings, his subordinates began to methodically dispose of the bodies, and the Demon Lord turned his gaze to the sole remaining loser.
“Well, it’s been a while.”
However, the loser’s attire was far from normal.
While the nobles could be described as wearing prison garb, the being before him could not be described as wearing clothes.
He resembled a cocoon made of chains.
Not only his limbs, but his face was also wrapped in chains, leaving only his mouth exposed.
Even that was covered by a mask that barely allowed him to speak.
“The Queen of Insects.”
“I’ve been waiting. I was a little tired, so I took a nap.”
This was the Queen of Insects, a former Seven Generals and a traitor.
“I see. I didn’t intend for this to be a long conversation, but it seems I’ve kept a woman waiting.”
“She’s right. Well, I didn’t expect much, given how you’ve treated me.”
Winner and loser – a more clear-cut contrast could not exist.
Who would ever guess that these two, exuding such effortless composure and even a hint of amusement, were once mortal enemies who had battled each other to the death?
“Then, do you understand what I’m about to say?”
“I refuse.”
“May I ask why?”
“Can’t you guess?”
They had once been superior and subordinate, and before that, they had fought each other. The Demon Lord, intending to offer a final act of mercy by asking if she would return to being his subordinate, saw a smile form on the Queen of Insects’ lips.
It was not a gentle smile.
It was the smile of a ferocious carnivorous beast.
“Don’t underestimate me! I lost to you!! But I haven’t given up on reaching the top. If you don’t kill me now, I’ll bite you again!! Next time, I’ll tear out your throat!!”
This was likely her pride as a strong being. She had endured the humiliation of faking her death and had prepared her forces to their fullest, yet she had been defeated.
She had accepted the result.
She had fought with all her might and lost twice.
She thought she could no longer win and had resigned herself to it.
But she had not abandoned her pride as the Queen of Insects.
“I did find your competitive spirit rather appealing.”
What was regrettable was that she could not reconcile that pride with her circumstances until the very end.
A challenging woman, who, having reigned as a queen, could never place herself beside or beneath anyone.
The Demon Lord, who respected her as an individual, inwardly lamented.
“Hah, it just sounds like sarcasm to me.”
“Is that so? Shall we battle again in hell a few hundred years from now?”
“By then, I will have conquered everything, and you will have no subordinates left.”
After this final exchange of barbs, the Demon Lord, not with the execution sword but with a magical blade forged from his own magic power, gently severed the Queen of Insects’ head.
“With this, our war is over.”
Then, the Demon Lord turned to the demon woman, Evia, who had been watching the scene.
“There’s still post-war processing to do, but with this, we can focus our forces on the other front.”
“I see. It seems they’ve also mobilized significant forces. Will we have enough time?”
Unlike the nobles from before, the Queen of Insects’ remains were gently transferred by the Demon Lord’s magic. Evia thought that he had intended to do so from the start, or perhaps planned to honor her in a separate room.
“I’m expediting the reorganization of the entire army. The Undead King and the Dragon King have requested permission to march.”
“Yes, the Dragon King’s Dungeon is practically unused, so it’s fine to send him out as is. Have him support the Lunaria, and send the Undead King and the Uuor to the Oni King’s front.”
“That will create an imbalance in our forces.”
The rebellion during the war had ignited embers that still remained across the continent, but the Demon Lord understood that there was no longer anyone left to oppose him.
Therefore, he would make the best moves to address the other crisis.
“The Lunaria can effectively cooperate with the Dragon King to seal the Gate of Light. While that’s happening, we’ll make our own preparations.”
“Preparations?”
Due to the opponent’s bizarre actions, they were unclear about their intentions. What exactly were they preparing for in the current situation?
“Demon Lord, do you understand the opponent’s intentions?”
Evia had also tried to understand the opponent’s motivations.
But she knew it was impossible to fully comprehend them.
Their actions often seemed futile, but when they were cooperating with the Empire, there was a certain regularity to them, making her feel as though she were playing a game of shogi.
She reflected that this was the only time she would ever be grateful for the ability to engage in genuine probing.
She could not fathom the intentions of Isal, especially Tris.
“They are attempting to summon a god.”
“A god? But that…”
She wasn’t without some inkling. It seemed as though their very existence was being consumed with the purpose of… She pondered what lay beyond that. The result led them to the summoning of a god.
However, she still judged the possibility to be low.
There were several reasons. First, summoning a god would require far more than a mere ten or a hundred human souls for energy; furthermore, the souls used in the summoning would be consumed and would be unable to enter the cycle of reincarnation.
Second, even if a god were summoned, it could not be controlled. There was no known spell to manipulate a god, nor could it be bound. Was there any value in creating such a violent entity?
Third, even if a god were summoned, it could be sustained for at most one hour. While its power would be immense, capable of turning the tide of battle, it meant that if they could endure that one hour, the Demon Lord’s Army’s victory would be assured.
The benefits were too few for a power created at the cost of all national functions.
Would a nation really engage in such a gamble? Reason suggested it was impossible, yet they judged there was a slim possibility.
In contrast to Evia’s thoughts, the Demon Lord pointed out the opponent’s intentions as if stating a fact.
“Yes, I’ve analyzed the information, and given the current board, it’s the only way to overcome the difference in our military strength. The more desperate they become, the more they will advance these preparations. They will undoubtedly use the magic words ‘for the gods’ here. The Gate of Light deployed on the front line is merely a feint to delay us; their true objective is Tris’s capital.”
“The capital’s population is large, but still less than a hundred thousand. They cannot perform a summoning with that.”
Evia could understand.
But she couldn’t accept it, so she countered.
Intellectually and theoretically, these arguments were sometimes meaningless, but they were valid as long as no exceptions existed.
“They can. For what other purpose have they been mass-producing Holy Swords and even recovering those that were destroyed?”
“…You don’t mean.”
“Yes, for them, a Holy Sword is a weapon, a symbol, and fuel.”
Exceptions always exist.
“The reason you always recovered Holy Swords, even if it meant their destruction, was…”
“Precisely. It was to prevent this possibility. But that era has come to an end.”
Evia also knew how to create Holy Swords.
Therefore, she knew that souls remained within those Holy Swords.
She had overlooked this possibility.
A broken Holy Sword might not be useful in battle.
But if they were constantly stored and accumulated underground in the capital in a buried form…
“Begin preparations for the army’s retreat immediately. What will be born is a phantom god. If we retreat the moment it is summoned, their strategy will be in vain.”
“In exchange, Isal will be reduced to ashes. Nothing will remain but a world scorched black, with no living beings and souls scattered to the wind.”
The summoning of a god would become possible.
“Just what are they trying to achieve?”
“We no longer have time to think. They are faced with two choices: obey the god or be annihilated. And their god thinks: if we are to lose, let us destroy everything!”
“Impossible! A god that has lost its faith cannot exist!!”
Although it sounded preposterous, the preparations to make it a reality were already complete.
And if the preparations were complete, then for a god, humans would have zero value.
“They do exist. Surely, somewhere, there is a facility hidden away where they preserve those humans who suit their convenience. After destroying the world, they will slowly begin to regenerate it.”
“Are you not considering our conquest during that time?”
“I am. That’s precisely why they are trying to break the game board and sever Isal’s connection to the continent.”
They would use every piece at their disposal, aiming only for their own victory.
“After fighting for so many years, I’ve realized this: if a god cannot eliminate bothersome entities, it will find a way to prevent any involvement.”
All for victory, a selfish god’s convenience, solely for its own triumph.
Understanding this, the Demon Lord looked at Evia with a cool gaze.
“And that is precisely why there is hope.”
He then revealed the method to defeat the god.
Another Side
Quote of the Day:
Don’t miss the chance you’ve been waiting for.
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