After "borrowing" the research materials from the magic workshop, I teleported the prototype weapons and the magic cannons from the outer wall collectively back to the Royal Capital. Since I sent them to a restricted area within the castle where no one ever ventures, they shouldn't cause any trouble. I transferred the documents along with them as well.
With this, I had obtained the information I sought. I would now be able to significantly bolster the strength of the Demon King’s Army.
Next, I warped to the castle towering in the heart of the Imperial Capital. There, I executed the Emperor and the hardline nobles. I had already identified their names and faces from preliminary reports. Though they offered a modicum of resistance, it was well within the margin of error.
No one powerful enough to be called a hero was present. Perhaps they had already fallen in battle during the Demon King’s Army’s previous incursions. I had spent most of my time on standby at the castle, listening to reports, but it seemed several one-sided massacres had already taken place during the invasion. With Grom and Henry participating, such an outcome was inevitable. Opposing them is impossible for anyone short of a complete statistical outlier.
I may have missed a few of the hardliners, but that won't matter as long as the moderates and neutral factions gain a proportional majority. National policy will shift on its own after that. Besides, the Empire is currently in no condition to wage war against anyone. Even if they tried to push for invasion from this ruin of a capital, it would be dismissed as mere bluster. One way or another, they’ll be forced to remain docile for the time being. That is enough.
"If you have learned your lesson from this, never cross me again," I declared to those I spared before exiting the castle.
Whether my threat takes hold is up to them. Opposing the Demon King is one thing; dragging other nations into their schemes is another. I will not allow them to instigate conflicts between humans. If they plot further wickedness in the future, I wouldn't mind dismantling the Empire entirely. Other nations would likely swarm and absorb the wreckage of a country broken into pieces. I have kept that possibility in mind, depending on how things unfold. Even so, I do not wish to destroy it needlessly, so I only hope they act in accordance with my ideals.
At any rate, I had fulfilled my objectives in the Imperial Capital. Now, I just had to regroup with the army in the occupied cities and establish the new borders. It would take some work, but nothing too taxing. I simply had to replicate the process I had used within the Kingdom.
As for the handling of the seized territories, I would consider that later. For the time being, they would likely be left to their own devices. Since it would be a nuisance if they were to plot an unnecessary rebellion, I should perhaps at least carry out a recruitment of personnel.
While considering my future plans, I issued a command to halt all undead roaming the city. I had already dealt sufficient damage to the capital; any more and the nation would truly perish. I probed the area with detection magic and found that the majority of the survivors had taken refuge in several locations throughout the city, hiding in sturdy buildings to wait out the undead. Comparing the number of survivors to the casualties, a significant percentage of the population had been sacrificed. That seemed about right. Depending on how it's handled, recovery should be possible if they cooperate with the Empire's other territories.
I was on the verge of returning to the Royal Capital when I stopped. I had detected the presence of an undead that continued to run wild. It was ignoring my orders, slaughtering the survivors.
What on earth is going on? I wondered, feeling suspicious. This was a phenomenon I had never encountered before. Based on the sensation, the one rampaging was someone I had personally turned. Most likely, my control over the individual was incomplete. The ego remaining within the subject was resisting. They must have possessed a remarkably strong will to reject my commands. That was the only logical conclusion.
Regardless, I couldn't leave it be. There was no one left in the Imperial Capital capable of stopping a rampaging high-level undead. Most of the soldiers had already joined the ranks of the dead themselves. I rushed to the scene using teleportation magic.
I arrived at the capital’s fountain square. Just as my detection magic indicated, a single entity was rampaging through the blood-slicked plaza. It wore vermilion full plate armor wreathed in surging purple lightning. Its most prominent feature, however, was the complete absence of anything above the neck.
A headless knight—a Dullahan.
The Dullahan wielded a wood-splitting axe. It severed the head of a straggling human from behind, snatched it up, and set it upon its own stump. The creature grew still for a moment, the slaughter pausing as it obtained a temporary head. But as soon as the head wobbled and tumbled to the ground, the knight let out a roar and resumed its movement. Next, it decapitated a nearby ghoul and tried to use its head as a replacement. Dissatisfied, it threw a tantrum and went back to the killing.
Its actions were entirely nonsensical, and it was indiscriminately butchering both the living and the undead. Countless heads were scattered across the square.
I didn’t care for the creature's eccentricities, but its appearance caught my attention. Familiar equipment, crackling purple lightning... only one name came to mind.
There’s no doubt. That’s Dolda of the Roaring Thunder.
It seemed the man I had killed had unintentionally risen as an undead. When I lopped off his head, my miasma must have flooded his body, triggering a fluke transformation. It was a rare phenomenon, likely born from Dolda’s latent potential and the overwhelming weight of my own necrotic presence. It appeared I had exerted an unintended influence on him at the moment of his death.
Even while I was speculating, Dolda slashed another person to death. He set the head down as if it were his own—the head of a bearded, middle-aged man. It bore a passing resemblance to Dolda’s own face in life.
I launched a fireball toward him. Dolda swiped his axe with shocking agility, snuffing the flame out instantly. His blade was imbued with lightning magic.
The makeshift head turned slowly toward me. Its striking blue eyes were identical to those he had possessed in life.
"Head... Give... me... a head..."
Dolda spoke, using the dead man’s mouth as a medium. The hollow face twisted in rage.
"My... head... Where... is it...?"
I understood his motive then. He was hunting for his lost head. That was why he was harvesting the heads of others. It was an immense nuisance, but since I was the cause, I couldn't exactly blame him.
"Your head was incinerated," I told him. It wasn't a taunt, merely the truth. "It no longer exists in this world."
At my words, the purple lightning cloaking him intensified until the glare was blinding. His axe creaked under the sheer pressure of his magic power. Even as a monster, the former Great Pirate retained his indomitable spirit.
Here he comes.
The moment the thought crossed my mind, Dolda lunged. His speed far exceeded anything he’d shown while alive. If I hadn’t enhanced my vision with magic, I wouldn't have been able to track him at all. Like a localized hurricane, Dolda closed the distance and swung his axe.