The Demon Lord's Subordinates (2)
A heavy, solemn silence blanketed the training ground as the orc crowd fixed their eyes solely on the raised platform. Word had spread quickly enough that even the ogres had set aside their daily labors and gathered along one side of the field. Though neighbors, orcs and ogres were prone to constant bickering, so it was rare for every ogre to abandon their village and appear at the orc stronghold. The most recent occasion had been when Veryberry inherited the title of Orc Lord, and conversely, when the orcs had flocked to the ogre village upon Oun's ascension as Ogre Chief. Beyond those moments, the two races shared the limited resources of Caboni Forest and inevitably clashed over them, making such large-scale gatherings almost unheard of.
Resentment simmered on both sides: the orcs grumbled that ogres consumed vast amounts of food without contributing productively, while the ogres resented the orcs' expansive workshops that devoured timber and threatened the forest's boundaries. Thanks to Veryberry's appointment as Orc Lord and the more moderate Oun's rise as Ogre Chief, open conflict had dramatically subsided, yet underlying grievances remained. The orcs supplied grain from their farms and finely crafted goods from their workshops, while the ogres offered hunted game and their immense strength for large-scale construction. In this fragile peace, outright quarrels had vanished, but the mutual complaints about resource consumption kept their interactions limited.
Yet now every ogre stood within the orc stronghold. Though they clustered among themselves, they stood alongside the orc ranks. This was a historic moment, and the events about to unfold on the platform would likewise be recorded and passed down through generations.
“During the long years of My absence, you endured well. In the harsh environment of Terraris, where ruin spreads unchecked, your tireless efforts have allowed you to survive. I commend your dedication from the depths of My heart. I also give thanks to the grace of Caboni Forest, which shielded you from the clutches of death. As Demon Lord, I am tempted to set aside My title for a moment and offer gratitude to the Goddess of the Earth, Astar.”
The Demon Lord's address, expressing thanks for Caboni Forest's purified environment and extending gratitude to Astar, left the crowd visibly astonished. In truth, Neromeltia did not hate all gods, nor did every god among the Twelve oppose the Demon Lord. The Goddess Astar embraced all things with unconditional love, earning her the title of Mother of the Earth. Neromeltia herself harbored no hatred for Astar—rather, a quiet fondness—yet the notion that a Demon Lord should oppose the gods was so deeply ingrained that her words struck the assembly as profoundly unconventional.
“Until this moment, everyone in Caboni Forest has labored without sparing effort. Yet there are three among you whom I wish to commend especially. I dislike lengthy speeches, so let us proceed directly. Step forward onto the platform.”
At her summons, three figures ascended the platform in turn. Leading them was Veryberry Beck Begrit, clad in a meticulously tailored formal suit that accentuated his refined bearing. Even without the antique elegance of his attire, his every gesture carried an aristocratic air. He maintained flawless etiquette without a single lapse, yet still offered the crowd a courteous smile and wave. From the previously silent assembly, soft gasps of admiration rose among the women at that single gesture. The romantic appeal of a middle-aged gentleman who perfectly embodied chivalric grace transcended eras.
Second to ascend was Oun, wearing a fur vest and trousers stitched from several large boar pelts. Though he had dressed in what he considered his finest, he possessed enough sense to recognize that his meager grasp of etiquette paled beside Veryberry's noble dignity. Normally he dismissed the orc as scrawny, but today he had desperately wished to impress the Demon Lord. Compared to Veryberry, his appearance felt utterly inadequate, and his spirits sank. The earlier scolding at the banquet only deepened his dejection, leaving him unable to lift his head. Then, from one side of the crowd, a thunderous roar erupted from the ogres. Spotting his kin cheering fervently, Oun finally broke into a satisfied grin. Once on the platform, he struck a series of poses, proudly flexing his massive, bulging muscles.
The third to ascend was Nella, dressed in a formal suit similar to Veryberry's. While formal attire was expected on such occasions, hers was unmistakably a man's suit, complete with trousers. Unlike Veryberry's aristocratic elegance, her outfit projected a crisp, austere atmosphere more akin to a soldier's dress uniform. Nella herself climbed the platform with a straight gaze and disciplined posture, evoking the image of a stern, rule-abiding general. Among the orc crowd, the women let out dreamy sighs, while the men watched with envious admiration. Even the ogres nodded with meaningful smiles, clearly approving of her appearance.
With all three principals now assembled before Neromeltia, the murmuring crowd fell silent once more. The Demon Lord allowed a brief pause for every eye to focus upon them, then her clear voice rang across the stillness.
“Veryberry Beck Begrit, Orc Lord and Lord of Stony Fortress, step forward before Me.”
Receiving the Demon Lord's solemn command, Veryberry advanced at once, dropped to one knee, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed his head. His etiquette was impeccable, as always. Neromeltia briefly wondered how he had mastered such flawless decorum in a world without kings or nations, yet she revealed nothing of her thoughts. Maintaining her regal composure, she began the ceremony.
“Do you swear loyalty to Me?”
“I swear my utmost loyalty to the Goddess of Luina, offering everything I possess. Just as I love Your Majesty, so shall I love Your people. I will serve as Your steadfast shield, ensuring Your subjects never shed a single drop of blood in an age of peace.”
Veryberry's concise yet resolute reply satisfied Neromeltia. His declaration that he would love the people as deeply as he loved his liege revealed a clear understanding of his master's wishes, making the answer all the more pleasing.
“Oun, Ogre Chief, step forward before Me.”
At the command, Oun approached and took position beside Veryberry, mirroring the same posture. Towering nearly six hundred mentols tall, a single stride brought him level with the kneeling orc. Even while copying the gesture, his colossal frame made the pose appear entirely different.
“Do you swear loyalty to Me?”
“I swear upon the muscles I have cultivated all my life to obey Your orders as I would my own life! My brothers and I shall become lightning that annihilates the enemy army! We shall become siege engines that shatter enemy walls! We shall become blades that sever enemy commanders' heads! We shall be Your absolute power!!!”
The oath was quintessentially Oun in its peculiar focus, yet Neromeltia could feel his sincerity and found it acceptable. She wished he could set aside his obsession with muscles even for this occasion, but the fact that he would swear upon the very thing that defined his existence only underscored the depth of his resolve.
“Nella, Captain of Engineers at Stony Fortress, step forward before Me.”
The moment the command fell, Nella advanced with crisp precision and knelt beside Oun. Like her elder brother Veryberry, she observed strict formality, yet her movements carried a sharper, more vigorous energy. Kneeling on one knee with a hand over her chest and head bowed, her lowered gaze radiated an unyielding will that could only be described as ironclad.
“Do you swear loyalty to Me?”
Unlike the others who answered immediately, Nella remained silent for a moment. Veryberry held his posture without the slightest tremor, but Oun glanced sideways, visibly uneasy. After maintaining the silence, Nella raised her head and met Neromeltia's eyes. Her steadfast gaze shone brighter than ever.
“I am but a single hammer.”
The crowd stirred in confusion at Nella's comparison of herself to a tool. Even Oun's focus wavered, and Lusteria, watching from behind the platform, tilted her head in puzzlement.
“If wielded to annihilate enemies, I shall become a war hammer. If used for the people, I shall become a tool that creates all things. Should the handle break and I fail to carry out an order, or should I become so damaged as to be unusable, I will never defy my master's will of my own accord. Everything shall be as Your Majesty commands!”
With those words, Nella bowed her head once more. The will she voiced after that brief silence was undeniably magnificent. Neromeltia's heart warmed with a pleasant thrill; the answer stirred her so deeply that she could feel her pulse quicken. Nella's pure sincerity, capable of moving even her master's heart, ignited a spark of loyalty toward the Demon Lord in the hearts of all who witnessed it.
Neromeltia smiled brightly. All three oaths pleased her immensely.
“I am satisfied with your pledges. From this moment, I shall commence the subordinate contracts.”