The Black Forest was notorious as one of the Demon Realm's most treacherous zones. Deep within its shadows, Tiamat—a colossal Lamia and one of the Ten Demons serving as the Phantasm King's subordinate executives—tilted her head. She had caught the sound of approaching footsteps and something heavy being dragged across the forest floor.
The tracks heading her way certainly didn't belong to a monster. Even in a habitat teeming with the Demon Realm's most lethal beasts, no creature was foolish enough to approach Tiamat, whose power stood leagues above them.
Occasionally, a lost demon would wander into the woods, but these footsteps were emerging from the very heart of the forest. The only resident back there was a necromancer with whom she had virtually no contact.
Confirming Tiamat's suspicions, a robed woman hauling a massive coffin emerged from the foliage. This was the necromancer known as the Martyr of Death, Rasal Marfik.
"……I’m surprised. How long has it been since I last saw you leave your cave?"
"Hmm? You’re that Lamia I’ve spotted once or twicE. Very welL... my research is finisheD. I’m leaving this placE. You can have whatever’s left in the cavE."
"Research? I don’t quite follow, but I suppose... congratulations are in order? Still, it is rather depressing. What's truly sad is that, rather than the parting itself, the fact that this qualifies as our 'first proper conversation' is..."
"Heh. If I recall, you were a Six Kings' Executive, right? If thaT’s the casE, we’ll likely cross paths again eventuallY."
Tiamat and Rasal both resided within the Black Forest, but because Rasal was a shut-in who emerged from her cave perhaps once every few centuries, the two shared almost no history.
Two or three times in the past, Rasal had dumped a mountain of unwanted items on Tiamat under the pretext of giving her things she no longer needed, but they had never shared anything resembling actual dialogue.
In truth, Rasal likely didn't even remember Tiamat's name. It was a shallow relationship—they were neighbors and nothing more. It was because of this lack of intimacy that Tiamat's peculiar fetishes had never had the chance to surface.
"Is that so? More importantly, you actually remembered I was a Six Kings' Executive. I’m both touched and saddened. To think we might have actually become friends..."
"I’ve forgotten your name, thougH."
"……How tragic."
"Well, that’s how it iS. Farewell theN."
"Yes, until we meet again."
Rasal, eccentric as ever, successfully avoided stepping on any conversational landmines as she departed the forest. Tiamat watched her go briefly before losing interest, returning to her usual routine of singing to the graves of her kin.
Tiamat was a gifted singer, possessing a voice that even Kaito had found beautiful. However, her repertoire consisted almost entirely of requiems.
That was precisely why she hadn't participated in the Harmonic Symphony. She felt that mournful songs of rest had no place at such a festive celebration.
"……Come to think of it, I never did get around to asking what she was actually researching."
At the northernmost tip of the Demon Realm lay the Land of Death. Across that snow-blanketed expanse, Rasal walked with measured confidence, the giant coffin balanced on her shoulder. Through her years of isolated study, she had perfected the 'Permanent Cycle of Death'—a method for the infinite proliferation and generation of undead. The end result was her 'Infinite Undead Soldiers.'
She had achieved a power that could be considered the ultimate peak for a necromancer. Without the need for corpses or even the souls of the departed, she could now manifest a limitless army of the dead.
While they were strictly undead and could not be called the creation of true life, Rasal had stepped into a domain that verged on the taboo, even for her kind.
Consequently, she was in a rare state of high spirits. She possessed the unwavering conviction that, as a necromancer, she had reached a height where she could unquestionably be hailed as the strongest in the world.
Now that she had realized her ideal form, the next step was simple: she would exert her newfound power to its absolute limit.
"Khah-hah-hah-hah! Now, it beginS! I must teach a lesson to the fool who dares style herself as the King of Death in my absencE. I’ll show her who truly deserves that titlE!"
Emboldened by her own excitement, Rasal arrived before a massive castle standing solitary amidst the frozen wastes. She unceremoniously slammed the giant coffin down in front of her.
As the lid creaked open, an overwhelming surge of magic power erupted, reducing the huge door to splinters.
"NoW, shall I head iN?"
"……How disappointing. I find it difficult to view someone who breaks down the front door as a guest."
"……HoH."
The figure waiting for Rasal just inside the castle was a woman wearing a white pointed hat—Polaris. Seeing her, Rasal raised an eyebrow in impressed curiosity.
(So, this is the onE... I seE, she is indeed worthy of the title of KinG. In terms of raw combat power, she might even be slightly above mE. ImpressivE... HoweveR, before my infinite legions of the deaD, a gap of that size is as good as non-existenT!)
Having never laid eyes on Isis, Rasal mistook Polaris for the master of the castle. Even while acknowledging that Polaris’s strength was equal to or perhaps slightly greater than her own, she judged her chances of victory to be absolute.
But just as she gripped her coffin to initiate the slaughter, a voice as clear as crystal drifted through the hall.
"……There was a loud noise…… What happened?"
"Isis-sama! We’re under attack! This person suddenly destroyed the door and—eh?"
Polaris had braced herself to defend her master, but she found herself at a loss for words. The intruder, who only a second ago had been radiating an aura of lethal intent, was now performing a dogeza so flawless it was almost beautiful.
Isis tilted her head in innocent confusion, unable to grasp the situation, while Polaris stood frozen, her mind failing to process the sudden shift. Before them, Rasal pressed her forehead firmly against the floor, trembling violently as she broke out in a torrential cold sweat.
(T-This person is the real Death King? ……She’s in an entirely different league, isn’t shE!?)
Serious-senpai: "It’s decided! The first-move dogeza!!"