"Truly, I was on the very precipice of death! I saw the Gate of the Netherworld manifesting before my eyes. Had it not been for your intervention, My Lord Demon King, I would never have returned to life."
Grom’s voice, thick with theatrical praise, echoed throughout the Audience Chamber.
I felt a certain dissonance with the phrase "returned to life," given his nature as an undead, but I chose not to point it out. If he was satisfied, that was all that mattered.
Grom had been like this for the last two days. Ever since he recovered from his near-death state, he had taken every possible opportunity to recount my recent exploits like a traveling bard. His manner of speaking was so hyperbolic that it felt like he was telling a Heroic Tale about someone else entirely.
I had left him to his own devices, thinking he would eventually settle down, but if anything, he seemed to be getting worse. When he wasn't by my side, he was apparently wandering the Royal Capital, regaling the residents with stories of the battle between Saint Machia and me.
The irony was that Grom had been teleported back to the capital during the initial stage of the invasion; he hadn't even seen the fight. Although I had given a concise report to the Executives, I hadn't shared details specific enough to fuel such a narrative. It seemed he was filling in the gaps with his own vivid delusions.
I had intended to caution him if the fiction became too egregious, but strangely enough, many of his fabrications happened to align with the facts. Because of that, I couldn't outright deny them, so I maintained a state of tacit approval for the time being.
It wasn't as if there was any actual harm being done. If anything, it was just a bit embarrassing for me. If this served as entertainment for my subordinates, it was a small price to pay. Additionally, it provided a sense of security for the people; a Demon King who could personally overcome a Saint was the perfect symbol for boosting morale.
(I can only afford to have these minor worries because Grom survived.)
I was truly glad I had been able to save him. Had things played out even slightly differently, he might not have been standing here today. Despite Grom’s excessive flattery, I quietly rejoiced in his well-being.
Five days had passed since the battle with the Holy Staff Army. The damage sustained by the Demon King’s Army was considerable. In practical terms, it was our first true defeat. Although I had eventually taken over the fight, the army had been forced to retreat in the face of the Saint’s power. There were casualties not only among the Undead but also among the monsters and the Elven subordinates.
The funerals had already been held. There were changes in the hearts of everyone: some mourned the loss of companions, others steeled their resolve for the next battle, and some requested transfers from rear support to the front lines.
Of course, I was no exception. My error in judgment had led to immense loss of life. Had I noticed the anomaly sooner, some of them might have been spared.
Moving forward, I intended to overhaul and strengthen our communication network. I would ensure that we could sense any situation immediately, minimizing the losses of the Demon King’s Army to the absolute limit. What was done could not be changed; I could only identify our failures and apply those lessons to the future.
However, the Royal Capital was not entirely mired in sorrow. Everyone was trying to move forward. They understood that this was not the time to stop. The Demon King’s Army was already looking toward the future, and for that, I felt a sense of relief.
"Boss, I’m coming in."
The door was knocked, and Henry appeared. The wounds he had sustained during the battle were already healed. On the contrary, Henry—frustrated by the defeat—had been redoubling his training.
"Did something happen?"
"There’s something I want you to see. Come on, get in here."
Henry gestured toward the hallway. Following his lead, Dorda entered the room, clad in his vermilion full-plate armor.
"Head... Give me... my head..."
"Hahaha, you’ve got a head right there, don't you?"
Henry lightly tapped the top of the hollowly groaning Dorda’s neck. With the slight momentum, the head fell off and rolled across the floor. Henry gave a wry smile, picked it up, and shoved it back into place.
"The connection was a bit loose. I guess I’ll have to ask a blacksmith to fix it properly after all."
"Henry... what exactly is the meaning of this?"
I felt a faint headache coming on as I watched from the Throne. In contrast, Henry responded in his usual casual tone.
"Oh, it's just Dorda, as you know."
"That is not what I am asking. I am asking about the state of his head."
I pointed a finger at the knight. Dorda’s head was no longer that of a human. It was now the head of an old wolf with gray fur and eyes that glowed with a ghostly blue light. It seemed that whatever was attached to Dorda’s neck took on that specific hue.
Henry placed a hand on the old wolf’s head.
"This? Well, he wouldn't stop making a fuss about wanting his head back, so I prepared a taxidermied one for him."
"Did you make it yourself?"
Taxidermy should have taken a significant amount of time. I doubted he could have finished it so quickly since Dorda had joined us. Henry shook his head at my question.
"No, I borrowed it from a noble’s mansion. I found a few other types too, so he can swap them out depending on his mood. Hey, you’re happy with it, aren't you?"
"This... is... not... my head..."
"See? He’s delighted."
Henry laughed proudly. Far from being delighted, Dorda sounded utterly dissatisfied, but Henry was clearly choosing to ignore that. However, there was no sign of the Dullahan going on a rampage. He stood quietly by Henry’s side. Come to think of it, they had been quite friendly at the banquet as well. One way or another, he seemed to have grown attached to the archer.
After a bit of light small talk, Henry left the Audience Chamber with Dorda in tow. Apparently, his sole purpose had been to show off the new head.
Once they had left, Grom cleared his throat.
"Are those two... well, are they quite alright, My Lord?"
"As long as there is no actual harm, it’s fine. Leave them be."
"U-Understood."
It wasn't as if they were doing anything malicious. It was best to let them do as they pleased. As long as Henry didn't commit some atrocity like harvesting the heads of our own subordinates, I didn't mind.
"Demon King-sama, you have a guest~!"
Accompanied by a carefree voice, Luciana arrived. With her was Logan, the Elven Chief. Logan approached the steps of the Throne.
"It has been a while. How are you faring? I heard you defeated the Saint."
"I am fine. What about you?"
"There are no problems. My people are living without inconvenience, thanks to you. I am grateful."
Logan suddenly bowed his head. I immediately raised a hand to stop him.
"Raise your head. I am in no position to be thanked."
"I see. Then would it have been better if I prostrated myself? That would be a more suitable attitude for one who is subservient."
Logan dropped to one knee. A faint, subtle smile played at the corners of his mouth. It was a change that only someone who knew him well would notice, but I saw it clearly.
"...Was that a joke?"
"Naturally," Logan replied as he stood up.
I was genuinely surprised; he wasn't the type of person to make jokes. In his case, it was often difficult to tell the difference, as he was the sort of man who might actually mean such a thing seriously.
"Wait... what did you just say...?"
"Do not make me repeat myself! I am telling you that My Lord Demon King has promised to dine with me tonight! There is no room for the likes of you to interfere!"
Luciana and Grom had started arguing in the background. Despite the mundane subject, the atmosphere was oddly tense. Luciana, appearing shaken, tried to protest.
"B-But, Demon King-sama is kind, so he might prioritize me—"
"Fool! Do you not understand the concept of an order? It is only natural that the one who made the promise first takes priority. Succubus, you have been defeated by me!"
"Noooooooooooo!"
At Grom’s triumphant declaration, Luciana let out a dramatic scream and collapsed to her knees. I had no idea what they were making such a fuss about.
For the record, the "dinner appointment" was actually a verification experiment regarding the sense of taste in the Undead. Grom and I are fundamentally incapable of eating or drinking, and we cannot perceive flavor. The goal was to find a way to experience taste again. So far, spicy food was the most promising candidate, as spiciness stimulates pain receptors rather than taste buds. I had summoned Grom to test this tonight. It seemed he had broadly interpreted this experiment as a social invitation to boast about to Luciana.
"As usual, your subordinates are a noisy lot. Though I suppose their energy is a good sign."
"...My apologies."
I apologized to Logan, who looked thoroughly exasperated. Having it pointed out made me feel a touch of embarrassment. However, despite their bickering, those two weren't on bad terms. When we fought the Holy Staff Army, Luciana had been in charge of treating the survivors of the interception force. Grom had been among them. She had worked devotedly to pull their fading lives back from the brink. As a result, not a single person who had been alive at that point was lost. It was entirely thanks to her.
"Regardless, I am glad to see you are well. Let me know if you need anything; my people will cooperate without hesitation."
"That helps. I'm counting on you."
Logan lightly patted my shoulder before leaving the Audience Chamber. He likely had other matters to attend to in the capital. As Chief, he was a busy man, and his involvement with the Demon King’s Army had only increased his workload. He had likely carved out a small window of time just to check on me. Having heard about the clash with the Holy Staff Army, he had clearly been concerned. He was a man who seemed blunt on the surface but cared deeply for his friends. I felt another wave of gratitude for his quiet kindness.
"In that case, I’m making a dinner promise with Demon King-sama too! Tomorrow, I’m monopolizing you from morning until night!"
"What?! Consecutive appointments are foul play! At least alternate with me!"
Luciana and Grom were still at it. I had a feeling their argument was only going to get more heated. If I stepped in, it would stop, but for some reason, it felt like too much of a hassle to bother.
(The fact that we are in a position where we can bicker like this is a blessing in itself.)
I had killed the Hero, destroyed the Empire, and brought the Saint to her end. Our conflict with the Holy Staff Kingdom would undoubtedly continue. A nation that had lost its Saint and its pride would surely be seeking retribution. I had no idea when this cycle of blood washing blood would finally end. Reaching a stalemate was still a distant prospect. For the time being, the mutual slaughter with the surrounding nations would continue.
I want to reduce the conflict between humans and realize a lasting peace. Yet, while holding that thought, I continue to carry out massacres. I am a walking contradiction.
However, I intend to accept that burden and keep moving forward. The evil that I represent will continue to reign over this world. Even if humanity rejects it, I shall push aside all resistance. That is the atonement permitted to me, and my most sinful mission.