Grom and I made our way to the Research Institute on foot.
I had decided against using Teleportation Magic this time; I had a sudden urge to see the streets of the Royal Capital with my own eyes. I rarely had the opportunity to observe the city’s progress up close during my daily routine. When I asked Grom if he minded the walk, he agreed with almost excessive enthusiasm. Though it surely would have been a tedious trek for him, he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he looked quite pleased, so I left it at that.
After leaving the castle, we strolled through the Castle Town. Stalls lined the main thoroughfare, and passersby walked along snacking on skewers and various street foods. Had I still possessed a sense of smell, I’m sure the air would have been filled with mouth-watering aromas. It was a small regret that such sensations were now lost to me.
Among the crowds, I noticed a few Elves, and here and there, I saw them interacting cordially with the Monsters. Since both groups were now part of the Demon King's Army, the relationship between them seemed to be steadily improving. This progress brought me a quiet sense of satisfaction.
"My, look at these crowds!" Grom said, sounding deeply moved. "There are so many people that we hardly even stand out, I say!"
"It is proof of the city’s growth," I replied, scanning our surroundings. "A good sign."
The population of the Royal Capital was on a gradual upward trend. Humans were migrating here from nearby towns and villages, and it was not uncommon for Demi-humans from remote frontier settlements to move here in groups. Even a handful of monsters who had served the previous Demon King had secretly slipped into the city. Most of these newcomers were seeking refuge from poverty, drawn by rumors that the capital offered work without racial discrimination.
Those rumors were not mistaken. The current Royal Capital was in constant need of labor, and we held no racial bias in that regard. Basically, anyone was welcome. Our agriculture was also thriving, with harvests sufficient to feed the capital's inhabitants. Even if we ran short, we could requisition supplies from other cities within the Demon King's Domain without overburdening any single region.
Due to these favorable circumstances, the food situation in the capital remained stable. Despite the influx of new citizens, the city still had room to grow; much of the land was currently a collection of ruins used mostly for storage, and we had more supplies than we knew what to do with.
The Ruins District now served as a holding area for the Undead not in active service. As the city became more populated, I had pulled in the units previously scattered across the outskirts to keep them there instead. This was to prevent any potential accidents—however unlikely—involving the Undead. With the city protected by Defense Magic and Barriers, there was no longer any need for them to patrol the streets. In the event of an emergency, I could simply teleport them to wherever they were needed.
Still, if the city continued to expand, I would eventually need a new solution for the Undead. They would eventually begin to crowd the living. While some had been dispatched to other regions of the domain, their numbers remained vast. I had considered returning them to the Valley of the Dead; it wouldn't be a waste, as they would amplify my own power. Yet, I hesitated to reduce my primary military force.
(For now, I'll put that on hold,) I decided. It wasn't a problem that needed to be solved today or tomorrow. I would consult with the Executives when the time came.
"Watch your opponent's movements! You'll be killed in a heartbeat if you stay that sluggish!"
A spirited shout echoed from the Training Ground. I paused to look inside and saw Henry instructing his subordinates. The soldiers were paired up for mock combat, wielding wooden weapons. Dorda was among them, his wooden axe overwhelming several monsters at once.
"Heaaads...!" he growled.
He parried a sword thrust with his axe handle and slammed a fist into his opponent's face. Even as a Slash came from a blind spot, he dodged and struck back with his axe in a single fluid motion. He handled simultaneous attacks with ease, spinning his weapon in a defensive whirlwind.
(His axe-work is as impressive as ever. Even in death, the name 'Roaring Thunder' remains well-deserved.)
I watched Dorda’s fighting style with genuine admiration. His skill seemed to have survived his transition into an Undead perfectly. If anything, he seemed sharper now that his physical, human shackles were gone. The living Dorda had been tremendously powerful, but age had inevitably begun to take its toll. As long as one is human, such decline is unavoidable.
I, too, had gained abilities far beyond anything I possessed in life. It is a bitter truth to admit, but humans have their limits. One can only hope for true growth by becoming something more than human. Having experienced it firsthand, I felt that reality acutely.
In that regard, Henry was doing remarkably well. Despite remaining human, he thrived as an Executive in the Demon King's Army. As someone who became the Demon King through the borrowed power of the dead, I felt a deep sense of respect for him.
"Hey, Boss! You and the big guy want to join in?" Henry called out when he noticed us.
The moment the soldiers saw me, they grew stiff with tension. Some shrank away in visible fear—likely the newer recruits who had joined over the last two hundred days, many of them Beastmen. Their reaction was only natural. I was a slaughterer who had claimed countless lives; fearing me was a logical emotion. Since becoming this existence, I have become able to accurately sense the terror of others, likely because I encounter it so frequently now. It was a somber realization.
More importantly, I had interrupted their training. Feeling slightly apologetic, I answered Henry.
"My apologies, but we have business to attend to."
"Fair enough. Catch me later for a round then?"
"Understood."
My presence was clearly a distraction to the men. After bidding Henry farewell, Grom and I quickly moved on.
"Grom."
"Yes! What is it, Maou-sama!?"
"Tell me, how should I go about becoming closer with my subordinates? It will cause problems if they are perpetually terrified of me."
"Hmm, a way to build rapport, you say..." Grom folded his arms and groaned. He usually acted on his own whims, so this was likely a new concept for him. After thinking for a moment, he clapped his hands. "How about serving them a meal? It is a classic way to foster interaction, I say!"
"I can only make basic field rations."
And even those were made with only nutrition in mind. I had prepared them often during my journey to defeat the previous Demon King, but they were by no means delicious. They were certainly not something anyone would eat for pleasure. Furthermore, since I have no sense of taste now, my cooking would be even worse.
I still find it hard to reconcile the fact that Grom, a fellow immortal, is a master chef. In his case, he absorbed a chef’s techniques into his very soul, allowing him to cook using instincts other than taste. I should have been able to acquire similar skills from the Lost Souls in the Valley of the Dead, but I lacked that particular aptitude. Perhaps there were no great cooks among the fallen there, or perhaps I had subconsciously discarded such skills as unnecessary. I found myself regretting that choice now.
Sensing my inner conflict, Grom spoke up hurriedly. "W-well, if not cooking, then perhaps just more conversation through small events? I believe there are many who would be honored to speak with you, Maou-sama!"
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely! If you provided an opportunity for dialogue, I am certain there would be a line stretching across the city, I say!"
Grom asserted this with total confidence. It was likely a response meant to cheer me up, but I was surprised he could be so certain. Did he have some basis for that belief? Unfortunately, nothing came to my mind.
Engaged in such idle talk, we eventually arrived at our destination. The Research Institute stood in a quiet area away from the main streets, nestled among several vacant properties. The three-story white building was windowless and imposing, giving off a secluded, clinical impression. It occupied a vast plot of land where several old buildings had been cleared away.
"Somehow, my heart is dancing with anticipation, I say!"
"I am glad to hear it."
Exchanging a brief word, we stepped inside the Research Institute.