The Goblin King (4): Clash of Reason and Passion
The violent collision of reason and emotion. A desire long dormant in the deepest recesses of the mind thrashed and stirred, corroding the ethics that civilization had layered over history. Reason, perched at the highest peak of the psyche, delivered a stern rebuke, insisting that one must turn away at once and declare such things improper. Yet Neromeltia’s gaze never wavered. In truth, Neromeltia herself had always been rather liberal in matters of the flesh, so obeying the negative commands of her moral compass was no easy task. Instinct, rooted at the very base of the mind, was the foundation of every personality; its power was difficult to resist. Why should sex be something to be ashamed of and hidden away? It was a thoroughly pleasant, happy, and natural occurrence—so commonplace it ought to be taken for granted. The beautiful naked forms of countless alluring women. The seductive figures of females writhing in pleasure, stained with lust. A breathtaking spectacle of countless women’s carnal acts, all visible at a single glance. Artis’s skill with the brush was so extraordinary that it rivaled reality itself.
“There’s no need to look away! Intercourse is the natural providence granted to all living beings! A beauty’s sex appeal is the most exquisite art in existence! Feminine charm is the very root of beauty felt by every being with a sense of self!”
“W-well… perhaps… that could be true…”
Neromeltia, already half-swayed by Artis’s words, began to speak her mind freely. How delightful it would feel to bury her face in those soft breasts. How thrilling it would be to caress that smooth skin. No matter how long one gazed, the images never grew tiresome; each moment revealed new, bewitching details. They possessed a magic that could only be called demonic.
“No!!! The Demon Lord is not the sort of person who drools at the sight of any woman!!! She may like women, but there is such a thing as love!!!”
Lusteria’s face flushed crimson as she squeezed her eyes shut and shouted. It was a passionate defense born of deep trust and faith in her master. Yet when Neromeltia, startled by the cry, quickly turned her head to check whether drool had escaped her lips, Lusteria failed to notice.
“Mm… yes. I agree that the female body is beautiful, and I believe depicting the nude female form is a perfectly legitimate branch of art. However, I would prefer to view the explicit portrayal of intercourse purely for titillation in a more negative light.”
Having forced herself to shift the atmosphere and regain her composure, Neromeltia agreed with Lusteria and even offered her own mediating opinion. She believed this answer would satisfy both sides’ convictions. Artis, however, showed no intention of backing down and voiced his opinion even more vehemently, his demeanor reminiscent of a general delivering a speech before his troops.
“Art that stimulates primal instincts and the desires imprinted upon life itself! Burning libido! Irresistible passion! This is the very source of the power entrusted by the people! It is no mere diversion! The fact that everyone chose to elevate a single powerless, frail goblin to the throne in order to obtain these works was a sublime social inevitability!”
“Stop dressing everything up with fancy words and difficult language!! Everyone just wanted to see lewd pictures, that’s all!! They put him on the throne and worship him simply because he gives them something nice!!!”
“It seems the lady also agrees that these works are ‘nice.’ Your honest reaction is most pleasing to behold. Ohohohohoho!!”
“Eeeek!! That’s not what I meant!! Stop twisting everything with strange logic!!”
The clash between Artis and Lusteria had escalated into a heated debate. Caught between their intense ideological collision, Neromeltia found herself unable to intervene and could only watch the argument unfold. Artis wove logic with eloquent, skillful rhetoric, while Lusteria, though swayed by emotion, fiercely shouted her principles. After pondering how to mediate for a while, Neromeltia decided that the matter would eventually resolve itself and chose instead to continue admiring Artis’s drawings.
Even upon a second viewing, the vividness was breathtaking. Setting aside the lewd subject matter and compositions, Artis’s technique—rendering images at a level indistinguishable from reality—could rightly be called the hand of a god.
Then a sudden question occurred to Neromeltia, and she casually asked Artis about it. The issue was the very realism she had just praised.
“Artis. Sorry to interrupt while you’re busy, but how exactly did you draw these? It doesn’t look like you had any models.”
Artis, who had been passionately arguing moments earlier, turned around with a relaxed expression and stepped confidently before Neromeltia. He was eager to promote his work further to the Demon Lord, who clearly seemed to appreciate his art.
“Of course there were no models! Among the books I collected were many well-drawn illustrations, so I studied them as references. There were also several books on art itself, so learning to draw wasn’t difficult!”
“You learned to create pictures like these just by looking at illustrations in other books and books about art?”
The fact that a goblin who had once been illiterate had gathered books and taught himself knowledge from countless fields already hinted at his genius, but at this level his talent was almost frightening. Even if his physical strength was lacking, his intellectual ability and artistic gift were monstrous enough to warrant the label.
Once again intoxicated by his own past, Artis added a personal note.
“But there was a wall! I conducted countless studies to reproduce the actual texture and form of the female body and reached this level, yet I always believed it could never match a work created from a real model! I harbored the grand dream of creating art while gazing directly upon beautiful women with my own eyes! But now that dream is becoming reality! Such incomparably beautiful women have appeared right before me!!”
For an instant, both Neromeltia and Lusteria felt as though their breath had stopped. Their bodies froze, their thoughts halted, and the surrounding atmosphere turned icy. A brief silence followed. After some time had passed, Neromeltia posed a single question to Artis.
“You mean… you want to draw us…?”
“Precisely!! It is an artist’s sacred duty to paint the two of you, whose beauty surpasses anything I have ever seen!!”
“…Naked…?”
“Yes!! And furthermore, in the throes of passionate intercourse overflowing with love…!!!”
“Rejected.”
Neromeltia’s expression turned cold as she cut Artis off and clearly stated her refusal. Artis looked utterly bewildered, yet unable to grasp the Demon Lord’s true intent, his face filled with nothing but questions. He could only wonder why the Demon Lord, who had been unable to tear her eyes away from his drawings, was now refusing.
Regardless, Neromeltia drove the point home once more in an icy voice.
“From now on, you are never to draw again.”
After some time had passed, Neromeltia obtained the information she sought from a thoroughly dejected Artis, whose spirit seemed almost deflated. Combining those details, she arrived at a highly credible conclusion: the area surrounding the Demon Lord Castle was safe and free of threats. Artis had recounted how, from the age of one until his current age of fifty, he had continuously scoured the ruins of the Demon Lord Castle in search of books. That meant he had never once encountered danger from the Humians over the course of fifty years. As expected, when Neromeltia pressed further, Artis confirmed there were no traps, no traces of magic, and not even any footprints or signs left by the Humians.
The possible answers were few, and only one stood out with overwhelming probability: the Demon Lord Castle was currently safe, without a single threat.
“At this point, we could have just flown straight to the center of the castle with flight magic.”
“Being cautious isn’t a bad thing, so it wasn’t the wrong choice at all, Master. Besides, we gained quite a lot, didn’t we?”
Lusteria offered comfort to Neromeltia, who felt deflated after realizing that their cautious descent into the deep sewers had been unnecessary. She gently lifted the tent flap and peered outside. The goblins, having eaten their fill of the bread and sweets Neromeltia had given them and drunk their fill of the cleanest water they had ever seen in their lives, were rolling about in pure happiness. Neromeltia could see the sight as well, and she understood the meaning behind the beautiful smile Lusteria then directed at her.
“We certainly gained something. It’s something that can’t be traded for anything else.”
Neromeltia returned Lusteria’s smile with one of her own. Both the Demon Lord and her secretary felt their hearts warm with the affection they sensed from each other. Suddenly, the succubus let out a playful laugh and lightly seated herself upon the Demon Lord’s lap as she sat in her chair. Exchanging a sweet gaze with her master, the succubus slowly brought her lips to Neromeltia’s. Their soft lips overlapped, and their tongues gently met. Lusteria’s eyes grew dreamy, intoxicated by the sweetness of the warm kiss. Meanwhile, Artis—whose very artistic purpose had been denied by the Demon Lord—remained paralyzed by despair and could not take in the scene. Though his eyes were open, his vision had long since lost its function, trapped in the sorrow within his heart. Even though it was the kiss of two women possessing the heavenly beauty he had dreamed of his entire life, he remained unable to perceive the sight.