Elysium stands as the sovereign state that unifies the present-day Miforsis.
Its capital is located in the <Megalanica> continent and is called the <White city Albasia> due to its white appearance, resembling a city covered in snow when viewed from afar.
Albasia's buildings are constructed using pure white stones, which are commonly found in the surrounding mountains. Its origins are said to date back to ancient times and are known for its multi-layered fortification wall due to the generations of expansion.
Those who visit for the first time will be amazed by the bustling castle town that stretches across the outer perimeter.
The outermost area, which is the newest, is orderly and beautiful. The streets are lively with people of different races, engaged in trading a wide range of foods, goods, clothing, weapons, and magical artifacts from all around the world.
After passing through the first gate, a slightly more weathered town greets one's eyes, then followed by the second wall. Each time passing through a gate feels like a short journey through history, exciting one's heart and leaving a strong impression of admiration for the city's ruler through annals of history.
After going through a bunch of gates, all the noise and activity of the city fade away, and in a calm, almost mystical silence, one arrives at the oldest part of the city, the central district.
Within the walls lies an ancient forest ―― the heart of Albasia.
The most ancient city, the most powerful.
There is no clear path, countless ancient trees spread their tangled branches, and the impenetrable haze and mist repel those who approach. It is an inviolable forest teeming with countless hostilities. Those who do not know the way cannot reach anywhere, or turn back.
However, if someone were to successfully navigate through such a mysterious forest, they would be confronted by the sight of a towering, white palace.
The Demon King's Castle.
It is the residence of Elysium's ruler, the Demon King Narus Exista.
The Throne Room is located in the innermost within the castle, accessible only after traversing several courtyards.
It is a grand and majestic hall with a depth that seems to draw the audience in.
Stretching from the entrance to the throne is a straight crimson carpet, guiding the way forward. Chains of light hang from the high ceiling, casting countless radiance. The light reflects off the polished pure white interior, spreading in all directions so that there are "no shadows" in the hall.
Among all these, what stands out the most are the jet-black suits of armor lining the walls on both sides.
Elegant, mighty, and imposing. An empty stare, threatening to cut off anyone who makes an improper move, monitors every inch of those who enter the Throne Room.
Therefore, the Throne Room is usually enveloped in solemn silence, but today it was unusually filled with a quiet murmur. Those who sought an audience were divided on either side of the carpet, and engaged in discussions. The current turmoil in Mifosis makes their conversations hastened.
"Be quiet."
A hoarse voice reprimanded the grand hall.
"You are in the presence of Your Majesty the Demon King"
The word "Demon King" silenced the crowd.
A hint of fear flickered in the eyes of the audience.
Beyond the throne where they stand upright and look up, suddenly golden veil unfolds.
The power of the Narus Exista is to be feared.
There is only one entrance to the Throne Room. There are no prominent furnishings. It is impossible to ascend the platform without catching the attention of the numerous gazes, nor is it possible to move without making a single sound. Nevertheless, none of those present could perceive the exact moment when the curtain opened.
The audience members, who had been shown a glimpse of the immense power controlled by the Demon King, realized the gap in their own abilities and had no choice but to kneel, showing their submission.
"Glory to King Narus Exista."
The audience bowed their heads humbly, as overwhelming silence pressed down upon them.
The Throne was empty.
The initial impression of someone who knows nothing about the throne would probably be an old chair—or perhaps, an antique that's full of cracks.
The armrests had a rounded shape, the worn-out paint revealing the exposed wood underneath. The seat itself was worn down to the point where the contours of one's thighs could be clearly seen. The gold, silver, and gemstones that adorned the throne also appeared somewhat worn and faded.
Nevertheless, there is one thing that is enough to make one believe that such a worn-out chair is the throne of a demon king, a chain so old that its origin is not even certain.
Atop the backrest, it is that distorted brass mirror that gazes down upon those who stand before it.
That mirror is unbelievably smooth that it is hard to believe it is of this world.
The mirror reflects the space around the throne, the reflection has inverting both vertically and horizontally. Rumor has it that the mirror has shifted and bent due to countless Demon Kings leaning against it, crossing their legs, or resting their heads, but there is no way to confirm this. The throne has been there for such a long time. No one remembers the creator and there is no record of how the mirror was made. But the fact is that the Demon King himself has been sitting on the throne for this generation, the previous generation, and the generation before that.
A flawless brass concave mirror sits above the head of a tattered chair.
Such abnormality radiates a stern and oppressive pressure, becoming the tangible manifestation of real power that confronts those who stand before it.
To this day, the mirror that crowns the throne silently reflects the inverted kneeling subjects, up to down, left to right.
"Allow me to make a petition."
In order to reach the throne, one must ascend the staircase.
Standing at the bottom of those steps and presiding over the proceedings was a short man. He had his hood pulled low. His eyes, that barely visible, were as expressionless as a Noh mask.
The hooded man was holding a piece of stone in his weathered fingers. At first glance, it appeared to be just a rough and unremarkable stone. It was about the size of an infant's head. He carried it in one hand and held it up. As if he did not want to miss the stone's every move.
The hooded man pointed, and a beastman among the audience stood up and stepped forward. Confidence was evident in the beastman's expression.
"We have discovered a new <Ovule> from the dungeon."
"Bring it here."
The beastman man carried a bag and approached, handing it to the hooded man.
What emerged from the wrapping was a pitch-black mass.
It was as reflective as obsidian, and a darkness colder than the deepest ocean was condensed into it.
The hooded man took a quick look at the lump, which he called ovule, and then tucked it back and pointed at the beastman.
"The Demon King will be pleased."
"Ha."
The beastman straightened his back, bowed with a proud expression, and returned to his place.
In turn, a plump dwarf stepped forward. He had an intense look on his bearded face and aligned his shoes nervously.
"I bring a report from the military. The operations against the <Diadem> have strained our forces, making it difficult to allocate resources for patrols and hunting magical beasts. The number of Butchers is increasing not only in the vicinity of Albasia but throughout the entire Megaranica continent. Which is beginning to impede the distribution of goods in Albasia. To deal with the Butchers, it is necessary to deploy seasoned <Overseer> to――"
"Capture the Butchers."
The hooded man interrupts the fat dwarf's report.
"No matter how monstrous they are, idiots are easy to trap all the same. Once you've restrained them, send them to that planet. Let the trash deal with trash. Continue the siege and sealing off of Diadem. Steam her until her will to resist crumbles."
"But—"
"These are the orders of the Demon King."
"...Understood."
The Dwarf man swallowed the rest of what he was about to say and returned to the line.
"General report, General report."
Next to move forward was a giant eyeball monster with tentacles.
"There is a request for the opening of new dungeons as two dungeons near <Hidden Palace> have both dried up. From <Solhel>(Demon realm), they have confirmed an emergency sighting of the subhuman fortress, but they are still in a standoff. Communication with <Crystal Desert> has been cut off. <Stratus>(Dragon valley) is operating smoothly. However, the control of the floating island has been partially lost, causing disruptions in Mifosis circulation. Thunderbirds continue to experience malfunctions, resulting in a lack of communication between cities. <Evernight> is in intense conflict with the subhuman forces. Request for additional dungeons."
He read the report aloud, and the hooded man questioned him.
"The dungeons in the Hidden Palace are being consumed too quickly. It was just established half a year ago. Isn't this quite an abnormal consumption?"
"The cause is under investigation. There is a possibility that it was because of tectonic movements caused by the "thunderclap". Additionally, there is a note stating that there is an abnormality with the Killing Stone. Abnormal phenomena have occurred in various locations due to the "thunderclap", not limited to the Hidden Palace. We are unable to establish communication with numerous cities, including Crystal Desert. The front line is rapidly expanding, with frequent localized battles occurring in various places. The warzone is becoming uncontrollable."
"During this chaotic situation, wouldn't it be risky if the monitoring of the <Askasha> became lax?"
An elf dressed in magnificent robes stepped forward and spoke.
"That clan has been rebellious against the policies of the Demon King for a long time. With this opportunity, it is not strange for them to be plotting something."
The hooded man then waved his hand quietly.
"Let Askasha do whatever they wish. Instead, recall Papameyan as soon as possible. The pressing matter at hand is Evernight—"
At that moment, the stone held by the hooded man shouted.
"Announcement――――――――!!"
Almost simultaneously, a muffled sound, like a drumbeat, could be heard from somewhere.
Everyone in the room stopped moving and listened to the voice of the stone.
"The sign is in Tokyo!"
The stone left only that message and fell silent again.
The Throne Room fell into silence, followed by confused voices.
"...Tokyo? What is that?"
"Where is it?"
"Did we mishear? Let us head the proclamation of the Liafal(Fate stone) again—"
"Liafal will not repeat the same thing twice. I definitely heard Tokyo. We all heard that, didn't we?"
"Could it be...?"
All attention turned to the lizardman clad in thick armor.
"Could it be ... a subhuman's city? Something like that happened a few years ago. I remember Orlando being sent somewhere like that too... Yeah, that's right. The subhuman city called 89, which eventually became Faymbaum, Liafal said there was a sign of the hero there too at that time."
Nods of agreement spread among those present.
"Yes, that's right, I remember now. But that city was near the frontlines, so we can manage... But if this Tokyo city is in the depths of the subhuman planet, we won't be able to intervene. We need to find out the location of Tokyo as soon as possible—"
"Very well."
The hooded man cut off the discussion.
"I will personally handle the matter of Tokyo. Sudama, Mizuha—"
But then someone shouted at the hooded man.
"Are you sending out wraiths again——Gehirun!!"
It was a demon clad in splendid armor.
No one stopped the demon from stepping forward. The demon was a general known for his valor and had served the Demon King's castle for many years, being one of the loyal vassals. Among the powerholders gathered in the Throne Room, there were few who could stop him with force.
The demon, with an angry expression, approached the hooded man, Gehirun.
"How far are you willing to damage the reputation of the Demon King? It might make some sense to send wraiths to those who show the will to challenge, but to assassinate solely based on possibilities... the name of the Demon King shouldn't be treated this cheaply!!"
"Silent, this is in the presence of Your Majesty the Demon King."
"Shut up you old fart! using his Majesty's fame to shield yourself!!"
The demon stepped forward in agitation, but Gehirun maintained a calm demeanor.
"Very well, then. Let me make it clear here and now... Are we really in a position to be doing all this‽"
The demon raised his volume so that everyone behind him could also hear.
"After the "thunderclap", I even heard an uncertain rumor that <Mu＝Pacifis> was seen at the ocean! I'm sure you can understand what this means! What about the "scrambled"!? Even though there is a possibility that the 'Elder Spirit' might appear, which could force us to fight in two-front, are we really have time to create new dungeons around like this!?"
"Be quiet."
"Leave the infant hero for now! We should progress peace negotiations with the Diadem! Our brethren are isolated and facing difficulties in various places! We need to investigate the cause, restore cooperation with each city, and quickly reorganize our forces to establish new fronts———Please! your Majesty!"
The demon forcefully pushed Gehirun aside and knelt at the bottom of the stairs. His gaze remained unwavering, locked onto the golden curtains that lay beyond the throne.
"If we leave this situation as it is, your reign will be plunged into crisis! The subhumans are not weak! We are facing a trial of life and death!!"
"You are being disrespectful, Brelion."
On the short staircase leading to the throne, Gehirun stood in the way.
"...Move aside, Gehirun. Let me meet his Majesty."
"Don't you know that his Majesty is tired from maintaining the vast number of dungeons? The dungeons that sustain you and all wealth in the world."
"I see... In that case, let me ask you now. Gehirun, why do we still keep creating dungeons?"
In the face of the demon king Narus, no one stepped forward to reprimand the interrogation of the demon Brelion. His words echoed the lingering doubts within the minds of the vassals.
"We no longer have a shortage of food, and the majority of the Elysium is being freed from hard labor. Yet, why are we still creating dungeons even on the subhuman's planet?! At this point, the number of victims in the subhuman war has become much more fatal!! We should withdraw our troops from the subhuman planet and close the gates! With the <Liafal>, the threat of the hero will not be as lethal as before!"
Gehirun let out a sigh of exasperation at Brelion and the other spectators.
"The <Liafal>, is not merely a convenient hero detector. It is just a stone that whimsically predicts those who possess the qualifications of the next holder. It is far from foolproof. Brelion, you dare to disturb the will of our Demon King with such actions? Surely you are not consorting with the Resistance vermin?"
"Don't you dare....mock my loyalty, Gehirun!!"
Brelion's purple skin flushed.
"Your Majesty, I implore you to allow me, Brelion, who has been by your side and served you since childhood, to hear what is it that you're concerned about. You need not bear the weight of everything alone."
"Do you not believe in the benevolence of our Demon King, who wishes to provide a future free from hardships for all the descendants of Mifosis and has tirelessly exerted his power?"
"I haven't heard his Majesty's word for decades!!"
Brelion's voice echoed through the throne room.
"Return to your place, Brelion. His Majesty will not entertain any audience at this time. Can't you comprehend the reason why he doesn't want to see you, a so-called loyal servant? Your numerous acts of disrespect in front of our King will be addressed and appropriate action will be taken. Until then, return to Solhel and cool your head."
"I'm tired of your excuses Gehirun. Whatever the reason may be, I shall retrieve his Majesty today, even if by force."
Brelion stepped onto the stairs, fully intending to force his way past the curtains.
Gehirun warns him. "That step——will be seen as a challenge to the Demon King."
Immediately, an overwhelming presence surged forward, halting Brelion's advance.
It wasn't Gehirun's doing. It was impossible for an old minister, as withered as a dead tree, to emit such pressure.
As Brelion looked up with a sense of premonition, a figure clad in jet-black armor and carrying a great mace appeared silently from behind the throne.
Known as a wraith, an empty suit of armor controlled by the Demon King, it served as an both impregnable shield and a peerless blade sent forth by the Demon King.
And now, descending the stairs with a chilling aura, the wraith revealed itself as the strongest of them all——
"Mobius."
Brelion let out a ferocious growl as he drew his sword from his back.
Immediately, sparks flew in the middle of the staircase.
Brelion struck first. But his blade, almost imperceptible, was effortlessly parried by Mobius, who then retaliated. Though Brelion's swordsmanship was impressive, it appeared childlike compared to Mobius and his massive great mace.
The two exchanged strikes repeatedly on the stairs, engaging in an outstanding fight. However, the conclusion came abruptly and disappointingly.
When Brelion launched a full-force thrust, aiming for a gap in the armor, Mobius evaded the blade and swiftly countered, shattering the sword with a single stomp of his foot.
"Guh...!"
Brelion's expression darkened.
He halted, and his face reflected nothing but deep regret.
"I'll be leaving first, my friend... I leave the rest to you..."
Looking up at the golden curtains, Brelion spoke calmly.
"I lack the strength... Please forgive me, Narus ojou-s-..."
With an emotionless strike from Mobius, Brelion's head burst.
His scattered flesh and blood sprayed onto the faces of the spectators. Not a single person showed a change in expression.
—No challengers have ever laid a hand on the Demon King Narus.
The reason for that is none other than the fact that this monster named Mobius is always by the king's side. Without defeating this strongest wraith, challenging the Demon King would be impossible.
After a while, mournful voices lamenting the death of loyal servant Brelion began to rise in the stillness of the throne room. Gehirun shook his head, "Be quiet..."
"... Can't you even consider his Majesty's feelings after losing the old friend? It's irritating. You all may leave."
Gehirun waved his hand, and one by one, the spectators turned and left, their heads bowed.
In the empty throne room, Gehirun crossed over Brelion's corpse and approached the throne, bowing respectfully.
"Sire—"
Gehirun opened his pale lips and let out a hoarse voice.
"The desolation is near, Your suffering will finally bear fruit. It's almost time. This is the critical moment. Be strong in your emotions. I can almost see it. The feast at the end. Among all living beings, is there anyone else who can answer the pleas for salvation besides you?"
Aaaaa... Gehirun offered a dry prayer, gazing into the distance.
"――True peace. We are just moments away from its realization. Please, oh please."
Gehirun's trembling finger, scratched and weathered, repeated words of encouragement like an incantation, and from beyond the curtains, a wet rustling sound was the only response.
The next moment, everything returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
In the empty throne room, only a brass mirror on a throne stood quietly, watched over by empty suits of armor.
Elysium stands as the sovereign state that unifies the present-day Miforsis.
Its capital is located in the <Megalanica> continent and is called the <White city Albasia> due to its white appearance, resembling a city covered in snow when viewed from afar.
Albasia's buildings are constructed using pure white stones, which are commonly found in the surrounding mountains. Its origins are said to date back to ancient times and are known for its multi-layered fortification wall due to the generations of expansion.
Those who visit for the first time will be amazed by the bustling castle town that stretches across the outer perimeter.
The outermost area, which is the newest, is orderly and beautiful. The streets are lively with people of different races, engaged in trading a wide range of foods, goods, clothing, weapons, and magical artifacts from all around the world.
After passing through the first gate, a slightly more weathered town greets one's eyes, then followed by the second wall. Each time passing through a gate feels like a short journey through history, exciting one's heart and leaving a strong impression of admiration for the city's ruler through annals of history.
After going through a bunch of gates, all the noise and activity of the city fade away, and in a calm, almost mystical silence, one arrives at the oldest part of the city, the central district.
Within the walls lies an ancient forest ―― the heart of Albasia.
The most ancient city, the most powerful.
There is no clear path, countless ancient trees spread their tangled branches, and the impenetrable haze and mist repel those who approach. It is an inviolable forest teeming with countless hostilities. Those who do not know the way cannot reach anywhere, or turn back.
However, if someone were to successfully navigate through such a mysterious forest, they would be confronted by the sight of a towering, white palace.
The Demon King's Castle.
It is the residence of Elysium's ruler, the Demon King Narus Exista.
The Throne Room is located in the innermost within the castle, accessible only after traversing several courtyards.
It is a grand and majestic hall with a depth that seems to draw the audience in.
Stretching from the entrance to the throne is a straight crimson carpet, guiding the way forward. Chains of light hang from the high ceiling, casting countless radiance. The light reflects off the polished pure white interior, spreading in all directions so that there are "no shadows" in the hall.
Among all these, what stands out the most are the jet-black suits of armor lining the walls on both sides.
Elegant, mighty, and imposing. An empty stare, threatening to cut off anyone who makes an improper move, monitors every inch of those who enter the Throne Room.
Therefore, the Throne Room is usually enveloped in solemn silence, but today it was unusually filled with a quiet murmur. Those who sought an audience were divided on either side of the carpet, and engaged in discussions. The current turmoil in Mifosis makes their conversations hastened.
"Be quiet."
A hoarse voice reprimanded the grand hall.
"You are in the presence of Your Majesty the Demon King"
The word "Demon King" silenced the crowd.
A hint of fear flickered in the eyes of the audience.
Beyond the throne where they stand upright and look up, suddenly golden veil unfolds.
The power of the Narus Exista is to be feared.
There is only one entrance to the Throne Room. There are no prominent furnishings. It is impossible to ascend the platform without catching the attention of the numerous gazes, nor is it possible to move without making a single sound. Nevertheless, none of those present could perceive the exact moment when the curtain opened.
The audience members, who had been shown a glimpse of the immense power controlled by the Demon King, realized the gap in their own abilities and had no choice but to kneel, showing their submission.
"Glory to King Narus Exista."
The audience bowed their heads humbly, as overwhelming silence pressed down upon them.
The Throne was empty.
The initial impression of someone who knows nothing about the throne would probably be an old chair—or perhaps, an antique that's full of cracks.
The armrests had a rounded shape, the worn-out paint revealing the exposed wood underneath. The seat itself was worn down to the point where the contours of one's thighs could be clearly seen. The gold, silver, and gemstones that adorned the throne also appeared somewhat worn and faded.
Nevertheless, there is one thing that is enough to make one believe that such a worn-out chair is the throne of a demon king, a chain so old that its origin is not even certain.
Atop the backrest, it is that distorted brass mirror that gazes down upon those who stand before it.
That mirror is unbelievably smooth that it is hard to believe it is of this world.
The mirror reflects the space around the throne, the reflection has inverting both vertically and horizontally. Rumor has it that the mirror has shifted and bent due to countless Demon Kings leaning against it, crossing their legs, or resting their heads, but there is no way to confirm this. The throne has been there for such a long time. No one remembers the creator and there is no record of how the mirror was made. But the fact is that the Demon King himself has been sitting on the throne for this generation, the previous generation, and the generation before that.
A flawless brass concave mirror sits above the head of a tattered chair.
Such abnormality radiates a stern and oppressive pressure, becoming the tangible manifestation of real power that confronts those who stand before it.
To this day, the mirror that crowns the throne silently reflects the inverted kneeling subjects, up to down, left to right.
"Allow me to make a petition."
In order to reach the throne, one must ascend the staircase.
Standing at the bottom of those steps and presiding over the proceedings was a short man. He had his hood pulled low. His eyes, that barely visible, were as expressionless as a Noh mask.
The hooded man was holding a piece of stone in his weathered fingers. At first glance, it appeared to be just a rough and unremarkable stone. It was about the size of an infant's head. He carried it in one hand and held it up. As if he did not want to miss the stone's every move.
The hooded man pointed, and a beastman among the audience stood up and stepped forward. Confidence was evident in the beastman's expression.
"We have discovered a new <Ovule> from the dungeon."
"Bring it here."
The beastman man carried a bag and approached, handing it to the hooded man.
What emerged from the wrapping was a pitch-black mass.
It was as reflective as obsidian, and a darkness colder than the deepest ocean was condensed into it.
The hooded man took a quick look at the lump, which he called ovule, and then tucked it back and pointed at the beastman.
"The Demon King will be pleased."
"Ha."
The beastman straightened his back, bowed with a proud expression, and returned to his place.
In turn, a plump dwarf stepped forward. He had an intense look on his bearded face and aligned his shoes nervously.
"I bring a report from the military. The operations against the <Diadem> have strained our forces, making it difficult to allocate resources for patrols and hunting magical beasts. The number of Butchers is increasing not only in the vicinity of Albasia but throughout the entire Megaranica continent. Which is beginning to impede the distribution of goods in Albasia. To deal with the Butchers, it is necessary to deploy seasoned <Overseer> to――"
"Capture the Butchers."
The hooded man interrupts the fat dwarf's report.
"No matter how monstrous they are, idiots are easy to trap all the same. Once you've restrained them, send them to that planet. Let the trash deal with trash. Continue the siege and sealing off of Diadem. Steam her until her will to resist crumbles."
"But—"
"These are the orders of the Demon King."
"...Understood."
The Dwarf man swallowed the rest of what he was about to say and returned to the line.
"General report, General report."
Next to move forward was a giant eyeball monster with tentacles.
"There is a request for the opening of new dungeons as two dungeons near <Hidden Palace> have both dried up. From <Solhel>(Demon realm), they have confirmed an emergency sighting of the subhuman fortress, but they are still in a standoff. Communication with <Crystal Desert> has been cut off. <Stratus>(Dragon valley) is operating smoothly. However, the control of the floating island has been partially lost, causing disruptions in Mifosis circulation. Thunderbirds continue to experience malfunctions, resulting in a lack of communication between cities. <Evernight> is in intense conflict with the subhuman forces. Request for additional dungeons."
He read the report aloud, and the hooded man questioned him.
"The dungeons in the Hidden Palace are being consumed too quickly. It was just established half a year ago. Isn't this quite an abnormal consumption?"
"The cause is under investigation. There is a possibility that it was because of tectonic movements caused by the "thunderclap". Additionally, there is a note stating that there is an abnormality with the Killing Stone. Abnormal phenomena have occurred in various locations due to the "thunderclap", not limited to the Hidden Palace. We are unable to establish communication with numerous cities, including Crystal Desert. The front line is rapidly expanding, with frequent localized battles occurring in various places. The warzone is becoming uncontrollable."
"During this chaotic situation, wouldn't it be risky if the monitoring of the <Askasha> became lax?"
An elf dressed in magnificent robes stepped forward and spoke.
"That clan has been rebellious against the policies of the Demon King for a long time. With this opportunity, it is not strange for them to be plotting something."
The hooded man then waved his hand quietly.
"Let Askasha do whatever they wish. Instead, recall Papameyan as soon as possible. The pressing matter at hand is Evernight—"
At that moment, the stone held by the hooded man shouted.
"Announcement――――――――!!"
Almost simultaneously, a muffled sound, like a drumbeat, could be heard from somewhere.
Everyone in the room stopped moving and listened to the voice of the stone.
"The sign is in Tokyo!"
The stone left only that message and fell silent again.
The Throne Room fell into silence, followed by confused voices.
"...Tokyo? What is that?"
"Where is it?"
"Did we mishear? Let us head the proclamation of the Liafal(Fate stone) again—"
"Liafal will not repeat the same thing twice. I definitely heard Tokyo. We all heard that, didn't we?"
"Could it be...?"
All attention turned to the lizardman clad in thick armor.
"Could it be ... a subhuman's city? Something like that happened a few years ago. I remember Orlando being sent somewhere like that too... Yeah, that's right. The subhuman city called 89, which eventually became Faymbaum, Liafal said there was a sign of the hero there too at that time."
Nods of agreement spread among those present.
"Yes, that's right, I remember now. But that city was near the frontlines, so we can manage... But if this Tokyo city is in the depths of the subhuman planet, we won't be able to intervene. We need to find out the location of Tokyo as soon as possible—"
"Very well."
The hooded man cut off the discussion.
"I will personally handle the matter of Tokyo. Sudama, Mizuha—"
But then someone shouted at the hooded man.
"Are you sending out wraiths again——Gehirun!!"
It was a demon clad in splendid armor.
No one stopped the demon from stepping forward. The demon was a general known for his valor and had served the Demon King's castle for many years, being one of the loyal vassals. Among the powerholders gathered in the Throne Room, there were few who could stop him with force.
The demon, with an angry expression, approached the hooded man, Gehirun.
"How far are you willing to damage the reputation of the Demon King? It might make some sense to send wraiths to those who show the will to challenge, but to assassinate solely based on possibilities... the name of the Demon King shouldn't be treated this cheaply!!"
"Silent, this is in the presence of Your Majesty the Demon King."
"Shut up you old fart! using his Majesty's fame to shield yourself!!"
The demon stepped forward in agitation, but Gehirun maintained a calm demeanor.
"Very well, then. Let me make it clear here and now... Are we really in a position to be doing all this‽"
The demon raised his volume so that everyone behind him could also hear.
"After the "thunderclap", I even heard an uncertain rumor that <Mu＝Pacifis> was seen at the ocean! I'm sure you can understand what this means! What about the "scrambled"!? Even though there is a possibility that the 'Elder Spirit' might appear, which could force us to fight in two-front, are we really have time to create new dungeons around like this!?"
"Be quiet."
"Leave the infant hero for now! We should progress peace negotiations with the Diadem! Our brethren are isolated and facing difficulties in various places! We need to investigate the cause, restore cooperation with each city, and quickly reorganize our forces to establish new fronts———Please! your Majesty!"
The demon forcefully pushed Gehirun aside and knelt at the bottom of the stairs. His gaze remained unwavering, locked onto the golden curtains that lay beyond the throne.
"If we leave this situation as it is, your reign will be plunged into crisis! The subhumans are not weak! We are facing a trial of life and death!!"
"You are being disrespectful, Brelion."
On the short staircase leading to the throne, Gehirun stood in the way.
"...Move aside, Gehirun. Let me meet his Majesty."
"Don't you know that his Majesty is tired from maintaining the vast number of dungeons? The dungeons that sustain you and all wealth in the world."
"I see... In that case, let me ask you now. Gehirun, why do we still keep creating dungeons?"
In the face of the demon king Narus, no one stepped forward to reprimand the interrogation of the demon Brelion. His words echoed the lingering doubts within the minds of the vassals.
"We no longer have a shortage of food, and the majority of the Elysium is being freed from hard labor. Yet, why are we still creating dungeons even on the subhuman's planet?! At this point, the number of victims in the subhuman war has become much more fatal!! We should withdraw our troops from the subhuman planet and close the gates! With the <Liafal>, the threat of the hero will not be as lethal as before!"
Gehirun let out a sigh of exasperation at Brelion and the other spectators.
"The <Liafal>, is not merely a convenient hero detector. It is just a stone that whimsically predicts those who possess the qualifications of the next holder. It is far from foolproof. Brelion, you dare to disturb the will of our Demon King with such actions? Surely you are not consorting with the Resistance vermin?"
"Don't you dare....mock my loyalty, Gehirun!!"
Brelion's purple skin flushed.
"Your Majesty, I implore you to allow me, Brelion, who has been by your side and served you since childhood, to hear what is it that you're concerned about. You need not bear the weight of everything alone."
"Do you not believe in the benevolence of our Demon King, who wishes to provide a future free from hardships for all the descendants of Mifosis and has tirelessly exerted his power?"
"I haven't heard his Majesty's word for decades!!"
Brelion's voice echoed through the throne room.
"Return to your place, Brelion. His Majesty will not entertain any audience at this time. Can't you comprehend the reason why he doesn't want to see you, a so-called loyal servant? Your numerous acts of disrespect in front of our King will be addressed and appropriate action will be taken. Until then, return to Solhel and cool your head."
"I'm tired of your excuses Gehirun. Whatever the reason may be, I shall retrieve his Majesty today, even if by force."
Brelion stepped onto the stairs, fully intending to force his way past the curtains.
Gehirun warns him. "That step——will be seen as a challenge to the Demon King."
Immediately, an overwhelming presence surged forward, halting Brelion's advance.
It wasn't Gehirun's doing. It was impossible for an old minister, as withered as a dead tree, to emit such pressure.
As Brelion looked up with a sense of premonition, a figure clad in jet-black armor and carrying a great mace appeared silently from behind the throne.
Known as a wraith, an empty suit of armor controlled by the Demon King, it served as an both impregnable shield and a peerless blade sent forth by the Demon King.
And now, descending the stairs with a chilling aura, the wraith revealed itself as the strongest of them all——
"Mobius."
Brelion let out a ferocious growl as he drew his sword from his back.
Immediately, sparks flew in the middle of the staircase.
Brelion struck first. But his blade, almost imperceptible, was effortlessly parried by Mobius, who then retaliated. Though Brelion's swordsmanship was impressive, it appeared childlike compared to Mobius and his massive great mace.
The two exchanged strikes repeatedly on the stairs, engaging in an outstanding fight. However, the conclusion came abruptly and disappointingly.
When Brelion launched a full-force thrust, aiming for a gap in the armor, Mobius evaded the blade and swiftly countered, shattering the sword with a single stomp of his foot.
"Guh...!"
Brelion's expression darkened.
He halted, and his face reflected nothing but deep regret.
"I'll be leaving first, my friend... I leave the rest to you..."
Looking up at the golden curtains, Brelion spoke calmly.
"I lack the strength... Please forgive me, Narus ojou-s-..."
With an emotionless strike from Mobius, Brelion's head burst.
His scattered flesh and blood sprayed onto the faces of the spectators. Not a single person showed a change in expression.
—No challengers have ever laid a hand on the Demon King Narus.
The reason for that is none other than the fact that this monster named Mobius is always by the king's side. Without defeating this strongest wraith, challenging the Demon King would be impossible.
After a while, mournful voices lamenting the death of loyal servant Brelion began to rise in the stillness of the throne room. Gehirun shook his head, "Be quiet..."
"... Can't you even consider his Majesty's feelings after losing the old friend? It's irritating. You all may leave."
Gehirun waved his hand, and one by one, the spectators turned and left, their heads bowed.
In the empty throne room, Gehirun crossed over Brelion's corpse and approached the throne, bowing respectfully.
"Sire—"
Gehirun opened his pale lips and let out a hoarse voice.
"The desolation is near, Your suffering will finally bear fruit. It's almost time. This is the critical moment. Be strong in your emotions. I can almost see it. The feast at the end. Among all living beings, is there anyone else who can answer the pleas for salvation besides you?"
Aaaaa... Gehirun offered a dry prayer, gazing into the distance.
"――True peace. We are just moments away from its realization. Please, oh please."
Gehirun's trembling finger, scratched and weathered, repeated words of encouragement like an incantation, and from beyond the curtains, a wet rustling sound was the only response.
The next moment, everything returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
In the empty throne room, only a brass mirror on a throne stood quietly, watched over by empty suits of armor.
