A Cold Glass of Mutiny
The forum users were declaring their support for me, even going so far as to reveal their real-world identities.
“What did I even do for them?”
If it weren't for you, Head Mod, the trolls would still be running rampant.
No one wants to go back to the old gallery filled with disgusting images instead of our clean and comfortable Sing-ma-gall.
“Is that really such a big deal?”
The generosity of a forum community wasn't so vast that they would fly into a rage to help someone over something so trivial. And yet...
Yes. It is a big deal.
The Operator stated firmly. Hearing her talk like that was actually a bit scary.
At any rate, backed by a sturdy barrier and overwhelming public support, I checked the 1-on-1 chat window again.
[Head Mod]: Scared?
[Elder Lich]: The powerful magic that will destroy you is almost complete! Await your death in silence!
[Head Mod]: Sure~ Go ahead and fire it~ I'll just block it~
[Elder Lich]: Nonsense! How could a wretch like you block a sniper spell from a legion-class magic corps!
[Head Mod]: I told you, I have my ways lol
“Give it your best shot.”
At the same time, at the Eastern Legion's garrison, Arkenia Fortress.
Bernheiter's life vessel hissed like a boiling kettle.
“We are ready.”
“Cast it immediately!”
“B-but, Your Excellency—”
“Immediately!”
They had seen the dismissal motion pass on the gallery.
But the official decree from the capital had barely departed and was far away, while Bernheiter's fist was very close.
The liches of the legion's magic corps had no choice but to obey.
Flash! An ominous purple energy shot up into the sky.
“Those bastards!”
The sub-mod, the Ancient Demon God, saw that they had finally gone through with it.
If left alone, the Head Mod would suffer a terrible fate.
“Why dost thou not reply to my messages?”
With an anxious heart, she sent another message to the Head Mod.
[Head Mod]: ?
The Head Mod had finally crawled out.
“Thou art alive!”
[Ancient Demon God]: Art thou unharmed? Those wretches have just unleashed necromancy upon thee!
[Head Mod]: I'm fine.
[Head Mod]: The Operator gave me a barrier. Apparently, it blocks this kind of stuff.
“Oh? Then that is a great relief indeed.”
The Ancient Demon God let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. And then...
Rumble! She watched as the purple beam of light, which had flown all the way to the Head Mod's presumed location, was effortlessly shattered into nothingness.
“It was true.”
A man who remained unscathed even after taking a direct hit from a strategic weapon of the Demon King's Army.
“He is a magnificent man indeed.”
The Ancient Demon God felt immensely proud to work alongside such a man. And then...
[Head Mod]: Hey.
[Ancient Demon God]: What is it?
[Head Mod]: Can I ask you a favor?
[Ancient Demon God]: What dost thou require?
[Head Mod]: It's an important favor.
“An important favor!”
Such a magnificent Head Mod was asking her for something important.
[Head Mod]: It's the kind of job I can't entrust to anyone but you.
A highly exclusive request, no less.
“Name it, and it shall be done!”
[Head Mod]: I have some things to take care of, so I need to leave the gallery management to you.
[Head Mod]: So, while the gallery is in chaos, ban all the trolls. Especially the ones who are obviously from the Hum-Elf-Dwarf Alliance.
[Head Mod]: You can even perform autopsies on the post and comment histories of anyone suspected of being an Alliance troll.
[Head Mod]: Just make sure to use their recent posts as the official reason for the ban so we don't lose points, got it?
[Ancient Demon God]: It shall be done!
In reality, it was just standard sub-mod duties.
It's the kind of job I can't entrust to anyone but you.
But the sub-mod took it as absolute proof of the Head Mod's deep trust in her.
“I understand!”
She threw herself into her work with everything she had.
The Operator was curious. Why wasn't the Head Mod posting an announcement now that the situation was resolved?
So she sent him a message.
Head Mod, what are you doing?
“Huh? Oh, I need to take some extra measures to wrap this situation up cleanly.”
Extra measures?
“Yeah. When that guy threatened me, he held two things over my head.”
One was that he would personally harm me if I didn't submit.
“And the other was that he would kill all the Arkenia refugees who recently joined the gallery and turn them into undead.”
Of course, they could still browse the forum even as undead. However...
“Turning perfectly fine living people into undead? Without their consent? That's crossing the line.”
Head Mod...
The Operator was deeply moved.
So, what are you doing right now?
“Gathering information.”
The person he summoned to the 1-on-1 admin chat was...
[War Correspondent]: ?
A forum user who knew the inner workings of the Demon King's Army better than anyone: the War Correspondent.
[War Correspondent]: Head Mod, you're alive?
[Head Mod]: Yep.
[War Correspondent]: I just posted what I saw on the forum. I confirmed that the necromancy spell cast by the magic corps was discharged into empty air.
[War Correspondent]: How on earth did you block that?
[Head Mod]: I'll tell you later.
[Head Mod]: First, can I ask you a few things about the Eastern Legion?
[War Correspondent]: Sure.
The War Correspondent was cooperative, and his military intelligence was incredibly sharp.
“I can't even begin to guess who this guy really is.”
But that didn't matter. What I needed was information on the Demon King's Army, not a forum user's real-world identity.
So without prying, I asked only what I needed.
[Head Mod]: What's the racial demographic of the Eastern Legion?
[War Correspondent]: Half are skeletons, and the other half are regular demons.
I see.
[Head Mod]: I'll reward you once things settle down. Thanks.
[Head Mod]: For now, don't post anything on the forum about me being alive.
[War Correspondent]: Got it.
[Head Mod]: Oh, and in about five minutes, could you write a post telling the members of the Eastern Legion to check the Gallery Shop?
[War Correspondent]: That's easy enough. Sure.
I closed the 1-on-1 chat window and immediately opened the Gallery Shop.
“This should do it.”
Then, I listed items that could only be purchased by IPs located in the Arkenia Fortress region.
“Alright, let's see how this plays out.”
Eastern Legion Commander Bernheiter. He was a lich who knew the glory of the past better than anyone.
During the golden age of the Demon King's Army, the Cheerful Demon Realm Village Gallery had been right there with them.
With command, reporting, and supply systems established through the gallery, they had been an practically invincible army.
That was why he had tried to seize control of Sing-ma-gall to rebuild the glorious army of the past.
Naturally, with himself standing at its peak.
He had planned to accumulate massive achievements to secure a seat as the next Elder.
But the forum users had revolted, and everything had gone up in smoke.
Currently, the notice of his dismissal voted on by the Senate was on its way.
Before long, he would be dragged to the capital as a criminal to face judgment.
However, at the very least, he would not go down alone.
“Foolish wretch,” Bernheiter sneered bitterly.
Since he couldn't have it, he had chosen to destroy it.
The Head Mod must have been struck by the high-tier lethal magic, incinerated without leaving even a fragment of bone behind.
Taking comfort in that thought, he turned his attention to the last things the Head Mod had tried to protect.
“Execute all the refugees.”
“...Pardon?”
He ordered his men to capture and slaughter all the Arkenia refugees.
“I always keep my word. Besides, those Arkenia refugees are nothing but trash who deserted the battlefield.”
“They were never part of the Demon King's Army, Your Excellency.”
“They became soldiers the moment I issued the conscription order. Yet, they chose self-preservation instead of joining the fortress.”
The adjutant thought to himself in sheer disbelief.
You issued the order after the fortress was already besieged, you lunatic...
It was a completely nonsensical, backward justification. But this was wartime.
And Bernheiter was 'still' the Eastern Legion Commander until the official notice arrived. That was the problem.
“Anyone who disobeys my orders will be executed by my own hand.”
The adjutant and the other undead officers under his direct command lowered their gazes, carefully reading the room.
“If you lots are so reluctant to obey, I can simply give the order to the demons who are desperate for promotions.”
In a legion ruled by an Elder Lich, it was always the undead who advanced in rank.
Regular demons were discriminated against and pushed to the back of the line for promotions.
So, if he used promotions as bait, those demons would gladly obey.
Expecting exactly that, he marched out, only to stop dead in his tracks.
“*Belch~*”
“What?!”
Bernheiter witnessed a shocking scene.
“What on earth do you think you are doing?!”
“Mmm~ Ah~ Hey, boys. Look who's here. The big boss Commander himself has graced us with his presence~!”
“Oh my~! What brings you all the way down here to see lowly trash like us, Your Excellency~?”
With jerky in one hand and a large wooden mug in the other.
They were all completely wasted.
It was a sight that even a lich, whose nose had rotted away and who had long lost his sense of smell, could recognize instantly.
Gulp, gulp. “Ahhh~”
The entire legion was drunk.
“W-who dared to bring alcohol into the military camp?!”
“The. Great. Head. Mod.”
“...What?”
A regular demon officer grinned stupidly.
“The holy Head Mod, *hic*, bestowed upon us our daily alcohol and snacks, *hic*~!”
When Bernheiter accessed the Gallery Shop, he found that they were telling the truth.
“That underhanded Head Mod!”
He was an insolent bastard who did nothing but interfere until his very last breath.
“Hah! Did you think all of my subordinates were like this?”
Skeletons had no organs and could not consume food.
Thus, he rushed over to the skeletons who couldn't possibly consume the beer and jerky.
“I can just order these guys to—*gasp*?!”
Arriving at the undead garrison, Bernheiter gasped in horror.
“H-how could this be?!”
For a truly unforgivable sight unfolded before his eyes.