Vessels Too Small
Barbatos von Ischwar tilted his head slightly. He looked more puzzled than offended. “A vessel too small? That’s a rather cryptic thing to say.”
“Take it at face value,” Nahen replied.
“How could our vessel possibly be too small? It pains me to say it, but I am among the foremost Demon Kings in the Demon Realm.”
It was true. Few Demon Kings matched Barbatos in stature. Aside from his obsession with martial combat, his character and conduct were beyond reproach. He possessed a cruel side, yet that was no flaw in a Demon King. Nahen knew this well.
“I am aware.”
“Yet you still claim it is insufficient?”
“I do.”
“And why is that?”
Barbatos folded his arms and regarded Nahen. If the answer proved unsatisfactory, he seemed ready to take issue with the remark. Uncertainty was one of the things Nahen feared most. In his right mind he would never have voiced such words, but the lingering haze of drink had dulled his reason. He answered simply.
“It is simple. Your faction is too small.”
“…Six Demon Kings ranked within the top thirty, two of them near the very summit, and myself a clear-cut Archdemon. And you still say the faction is small?”
“It is small. May I ask one more question?”
“Speak.”
“Do you truly believe Belzebute von Deus would ever join this faction?”
The question came out of nowhere. Why bring up Belzebute now? Barbatos shook his head, trying to grasp the intent behind it.
“Of course not.”
“Exactly. That is the reason I spoke of.”
“What do you mean? Before we even discuss the size of one’s vessel, someone who has reached the pinnacle would never form an alliance with others…”
“That is not true. Even those who stand at the peak will form alliances if their counterpart is of equal standing.”
“What are you saying? Belzebute belongs to no faction.”
“Are you certain of that?”
Nahen knew the faction Belzebute had assembled. It was an alliance of the four highest-ranked Demon Kings: Belzebute von Deus, first rank; Agreas von Dio, second rank; Vassago von Deity, third rank; and Samigina von Seos, fourth rank. The so-called Patrician Faction, unknown to the wider world yet perfectly familiar to Nahen from his time playing Evil Queen Maker.
“…A rather loaded statement.”
“In any case, even the strongest Demon King will form alliances when facing an equal. Surprisingly few care only for raw power the way you do, Lord Barbatos.”
“Then let me ask again. Are you saying that Seere von Devata is a vessel our Equites Faction cannot contain?”
Nahen nodded lightly. Only now, it seemed, did he understand his own words, and an uncharacteristically hearty smile spread across his face.
“That is precisely what I mean.”
“Hah. Are you not overpraising your own disciple? You might as well say we cannot contain you. At least that I could understand.”
“You are not wrong, but that is not the point of this conversation. I am speaking of the future. If the Equites Faction remains as it is, it will not be of much help to Seere later on.”
“Explain why you believe that.”
Barbatos listened. By now most would have taken the words as an insult to themselves and their faction, yet he remained composed. Because he showed no reaction, Jepar, who had been listening, also held his tongue.
‘As expected of Barbatos.’
Unlike other martial Demon Kings, this was Barbatos’s true strength. Jepar’s own calm demeanor likely owed much to his influence. Nahen smiled inwardly and continued.
“Each of the Demon Kings in the Equites Faction is exceptional in their own right. Their personal forces may be modest, but their individual abilities more than compensate.”
“Hmm.”
“But what of the faction as a whole? I know the comparison may displease you, yet the Plebs Faction offers the easiest point of reference, so allow me to use it.”
Barbatos’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded.
“How many Demon Kings belong to the Plebs Faction?”
“…Thirteen.”
“Correct. Roughly one-sixth of all Demon Kings in the realm. More than twice the number in the Equites Faction. Their subordinate forces must be correspondingly larger.”
“Battles are not decided by numbers alone. Even if we clashed with them now, I am confident our faction would prevail.”
“I am not speaking of battle, Your Highness,” Nahen corrected gently. “A larger force means greater influence, even without war.”
“…True.”
“Then let me ask this: when a Demon King already possesses sufficient power and forces, what does he truly need—broad influence through many supporters, or combat strength through a small number of elites?”
Barbatos let out a low groan. No matter how he turned it over, he could find no flaw in Nahen’s reasoning. If the discussion stayed on combat, Barbatos’s view would hold. Numbers meant nothing against overwhelming individual strength. But Nahen was speaking of influence beyond the battlefield. While the Equites Faction boasted Barbatos himself, the Plebs Faction possessed comparable figures.
“Numbers always matter. The more you have, the more you can accomplish.”
“…I understand your point. Our faction lacks sufficient members.”
“Your faction is still superior to the Nobiles Faction, which has lost its leader, but the numerical gap remains a hindrance.”
Nahen spoke while offering the bottle to Barbatos. The Demon King readily extended his cup.
“You are… refreshingly candid, I suppose.”
“The drink may have made me a little emotional as well.”
“One more question. You clearly need our help tomorrow.”
“I do.”
“Did you not consider that I might take offense and refuse to aid you? What would you have done if I had declared I would not help?”
Nahen smiled faintly and answered honestly.
“I did not. And I know you would never do such a thing. Lord Barbatos von Ischwar is a Demon King who values honor.”
Though Nahen’s words had seemed reckless, they had been calculated from his deep knowledge of Barbatos’s character—knowledge gained from dozens of playthroughs of Evil Queen Maker.
“…Hah-hah-hah! Indeed…! Indeed it is so!”
Satisfied, Barbatos snatched the bottle from Nahen’s hand and poured for him instead.
“The more I see, the more I like you! Your strength, your ambition—both please me! Yes… that must be your goal.”
Barbatos voiced Nahen’s dream aloud.
“To place Seere von Devata at the very top.”
“It is.”
“Very well. For that reason, I shall abandon any thought of recruiting you into my service.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Instead, I swear here and now. Should Seere von Devata truly prove herself a Demon King capable of reaching the summit…!”
Barbatos raised his cup toward Nahen.
“In the name of Ischwar, I shall become your ally.”
Nahen’s eyes widened at the declaration. After a moment of apparent shock, he slowly smiled.
“…Remarkable. I never expected to hear such words from you.”
“Kah-hah-hah! Truthfully, I simply wanted another duel and thought a bribe might help.”
“Ah, so that was it? Then I must prepare myself thoroughly.”
“See that you do!”
Their cups clinked. Both men drank deeply, smiling, yet Nahen’s expression suddenly hardened.
‘I am sorry, Barbatos von Ischwar, but that is an oath that can never be fulfilled.’
To reach the summit, Seere would have to defeat certain Demon Kings. Only after overcoming them would she gain the confidence to challenge Belzebute at the peak. Therefore, Barbatos von Ischwar—this hearty, powerful Demon King—was…
‘…a Demon King who must be hunted.’
Barbatos emptied his cup and set it down. Nahen did the same. They smiled at each other, but the meaning behind those smiles diverged.
#
“Ugh…”
“…I told you to drink in moderation.”
The next morning, Seere stared at the bed with an awkward expression. This was not her room, but Nahen’s. While she had finished preparing for the assembly, Nahen still lay there, unable to rise. He clutched his throbbing head and groaned. With the assembly about to begin, there was nothing to be done.
“Seere… I am truly sorry…”
It had been too long since he last drank. Even using the trick of feeding the beast liquor, he had been unable to match Barbatos’s tolerance. Seere, by contrast, had stopped midway and managed to wake properly. Having shown such disgrace before his disciple, Nahen groaned inwardly.
‘What kind of Archdemon loses a drinking contest to a Demon King…’
He was unsure whether the seal was to blame. In any case, Nahen was in no condition to attend the meeting.
“It is all right. You already laid all the groundwork.”
“Yes… I told you everything you need to do, did I not?”
“You did. I will go alone. Please rest well, Teacher.”
“Truly… thank you. Seere, I believe in you.”
“Of course. I am a reliable disciple now, after all.”
“That you are…”
Nahen weakly placed a hand on Seere’s head.
“You are my one and only disciple.”
“…T-Teacher.”
“Hm…?”
His fingers brushed against something hard. When Nahen barely managed to lift his head, he saw that one fingertip had touched her horn. For a brief second his mind went completely blank.
“Hnn… ahh…”
“I-I am so sorry—ugh!?”
Nahen yanked his hand away and tried to stand, only to topple backward in shock. Seere sank to the floor, unsure what to do. Thud! His head struck the table behind him. The already painful headache intensified, leaving him dazed.
“Ghh…”
Amid the brief commotion, the door burst open.
“Huh, it was open? Seere, we should get going—eh?”
“Oh my, what is going on here?”
Sitri and Gremory, who had come to accompany Seere to the assembly, could only tilt their heads. Nahen lay sprawled on the floor groaning, while Seere sat clutching herself.
“Seere?”
“Are you hurt?”
“N-no… ah, l-let us go…”
“You are not taking Nahen?”
“Teacher says his head hurts…”
“He does not look fit to bring along. But Seere, your face is red… What were you two doing?”
“W-we did nothing…”
Sitri’s suspicious gaze flicked between them. She had a fair idea of what had happened; there was only one reason a female Demon King would suddenly become so flustered. After Seere and Gremory left, Sitri glanced back at Nahen, who was finally sitting up.
“Hey, Nahen…”
“Ugh… what?”
“Even so, touching a horn like that is a bit much, is it not? It is an extremely sensitive spot for female Demon Kings.”
“What nonsense are you spouting!? Stop talking nonsense and go to the assembly!”
“Goodness. Fine, why are you getting angry?”
Muttering that she must have been mistaken, Sitri hurried out. Nahen pressed his aching head and muttered.
“…Leviathan.”
Black mist swirled, and a small white whale appeared. It looked at Nahen with concern. He waved a hand dismissively.
“Stay with Seere.”
“Puu.”
“If anything happens to Seere…”
Nahen searched for the right words, then winced as another wave of pain struck his temples.
“Just… devour them.”
“Puu?”
Leviathan tilted its head, as if asking whether that was truly all right. Nahen, who had spoken in a fit of pain, hesitated before correcting himself.
“…What am I saying? Do not eat them. Just report back if anything happens.”
“Puu.”
“Understood.”
Leviathan nodded reluctantly and vanished. Nahen rubbed his throbbing forehead.
‘Can Seere really handle this…?’
Deciding it would be better to go after all, Nahen began searching for a way to cure his headache.