Two hundred days had passed since my life-or-death struggle with the Saint.
I still sat upon the throne of the Demon King.
No foreign powers had attempted an invasion, and I had launched no new campaigns of my own. I had heard no word of major conflicts elsewhere, either. It was the calm before the storm. In a sense, it was exactly what I had envisioned. While this peace was likely a fleeting illusion, I chose to appreciate the momentary quiet.
Regular reports trickled in from the spies I had dispatched to various nations. It seemed that every country was currently developing its own plan to counter the Demon King. The details were usually kept under heavy guard, making it difficult to probe deeper than the surface level.
There was a specific reason for this difficulty.
During the reign of the previous Demon King, Luciana of the Four Heavenly Kings had been far too effective. The covert operations she orchestrated beneath the surface had plunged the nations of that era into absolute chaos. Taking the lessons of that disaster to heart, modern governments now enforced rigorous information management. By implementing layers of security and counter-espionage measures, they ensured that internal affairs rarely leaked to the outside world. It was even said that the methods Luciana once favored were now taught to officials through specialized manuals.
Even so, the fact that we received any intel at all was a testament to the prowess of Luciana and her spy unit. Thanks to them, I could maintain a general grasp of international movements. Without that information, I wouldn't have had a single moment’s rest.
I had strictly ordered my spies to prioritize their own safety above all else. Information was vital, yes, but they were not to throw their lives away in pursuit of it. Their survival was my highest priority. I was content so long as they provided steady, reliable data over time.
Aside from their anti-Demon King measures, the various nations had begun to move in other directions.
First, the Empire.
Though twenty percent of their total territory had been seized by the Demon King’s Army and their capital had been laid to waste, their reconstruction was proceeding smoothly. The nobles from the uninvaded regions were pouring their resources into the effort, struggling to stabilize the crippled Empire. I had also received reports that they were forming secret alliances with several other countries. While they were far from their former glory, they were showing definite signs of revival.
The Empire was a powerhouse blessed with abundant resources and talent. As I had expected, they weren't about to simply wither away and perish. Eventually, they might even attempt a counterattack against us. I had warned them never to defy me again, but I saw no issue with them plotting revenge. It would be even better if they collaborated with other nations.
The current Emperor was reportedly a relative of his predecessor. He was not a warmonger, preferring to focus on solidifying his nation’s foundations. I could only hope he would succeed in building a better country.
Then there was the Holy Staff Kingdom. Their situation was not quite as dire as the Empire’s. Since the Demon King’s Army had never actually touched their soil, their physical losses were negligible. They still possessed significant military strength and ample reserves. The losses they sustained during the battle with the Saint wouldn't be enough to cause the kingdom to collapse.
However, they faced a different, more troublesome issue.
By losing tens of thousands of soldiers—and the Saint herself—a shadow had fallen across their absolute authority. Many of their citizens were beginning to harbor doubts, and overall public order was in decline. For a nation built upon the pillars of faith and pride, this was a devastating blow.
Perhaps to mitigate this, the Holy Staff Kingdom made frequent, public announcements regarding their progress in countering the Demon King. They boasted about the systematization of Divine Magic and the imminent birth of a new Saint. Most of it was either groundless rumor or blatant fabrication, yet they persisted with a strange, desperate enthusiasm. It likely doubled as a way to keep other nations in check.
I found myself almost impressed by such blatant vanity.
Despite their aggressive rhetoric, there were no signs of an actual invasion. They had lost tens of thousands of men, and the Saint—who had been championed by the entire world—was dead. They likely had reserve forces, but they couldn't afford to deploy them on a whim. If they were defeated again, the military’s reputation would be shattered beyond repair. For the ruling class, that was a scenario to be avoided at all costs.
Consequently, their actual movements were cautious. Regardless of the reality within the Holy Staff Army, the fact that they were focusing solely on the Demon King’s Army was a positive trend. I expected they would do little more than bluster for the time being. I would continue to monitor them.
One thing was certain: the Holy Staff Kingdom had not abandoned the idea of a Demon King Subjugation. Eventually, they would strike back, and when they did, they would invade with even greater force. I had to remain vigilant.
At present, I had no intention of wiping them out. Whatever their ideology, their movements were currently aligning with my ideals. It would be perfect if they cooperated with other nations, but for now, that seemed unlikely. The leadership of the Holy Staff Army was far too proud. They looked down on other countries and resisted the idea of working with anyone outside their own borders. That wasn't a problem that could be solved overnight.
If I were to invade their territory and back them into a corner, they might change their tune, but there was little to be gained from such an extreme measure. While it would be the "Demon King" thing to do, I didn't actually want to destroy the world. I only wanted to use destruction as a catalyst to unite humanity. I had to be careful about the scale of the damage I inflicted.
(Deep despair, huh?)
I recalled Saint Machia’s final words.
I did harbor a degree of hatred for humanity. That was an undeniable truth. But I couldn't let my personal feelings dictate my actions. If I sought only revenge, I could have destroyed the world long ago. And if I chose that path, no one would be able to stop me. I would become a Demon King in the truest sense of the word.
I had to master my own heart. I had to remain conscious of the path I had chosen. I had inherited that man’s dream. I could never afford to forget that.
"Maou-sama, might I have a moment?"
Grom’s voice pulled me from my introspection. He was standing nearby, methodically organizing a stack of documents.
"What is it?"
"A visit to the Research Institute is scheduled for today. It is nearly time; shall we depart?"
Grom’s reminder brought the schedule back to me. Inspired by the magic workshops I had seen in the Imperial Capital, I had established a similar facility in a district of the Royal Capital. Its purpose was to develop weaponry and invent various magic tools, all to further the development of the Demon King’s Domain and bolster our military strength.
The inspection was today. Though I had provided the initial vision and direction, I hadn't been very involved with the project lately. I had left the personnel and construction entirely to my subordinates. I’d heard that things were progressing without incident, but I was curious to see what form it had taken. Even setting aside my duties as Demon King, I was genuinely interested.
I stood up and gestured for Grom to follow.
"Let's go."
"Ha! As you wish, Maou-sama!"
Grom set down his papers and moved behind me with staggering speed. He seemed quite pleased; the flame in his single eye was burning with renewed intensity. Despite his heavy workload, Grom was always brimming with energy. It was likely a perk of being an Undead—he never tired. He seemed to genuinely enjoy labor; a quintessential workaholic.
I’d even heard rumors that he occasionally served home-cooked meals at a dining hall in the castle town. Despite his terrifying appearance, his subordinates seemed to adore him. I suspected he might actually be more popular than I was.
(...I need to come up with a plan of my own.)
The Demon King was a symbol of terror and ruin. However, I wondered if it was right for my subordinates to view me in that same light. While I didn't expect to be seen as a "good" king, I wanted to at least be trusted for my character.
Unfortunately, I was woefully ignorant when it came to such matters. I wanted to hear what the other executives had to say. Perhaps I could bring it up subtly at the next regular meeting.
Harboring these minor anxieties, I left the room with Grom in tow.