The Stirring Conspiracy - 1
The battle that unfolded across the Starlord Plains ended in a complete triumph for the allied forces of Seere and Sitri. Two of Belial’s Four Flames fell in combat, while the other two were taken prisoner. On top of that, Belial himself was defeated in single combat against the opposing Demon King and slain where he stood. The soldiers left on the 67th floor had no hope remaining. Before they could be crushed between hammer and anvil, they laid down their weapons and signaled their surrender. It was, without exaggeration, a flawless victory.
The tactics had worked exactly as planned. Every skirmish, large or small, had been won. There had been casualties, of course, but nothing that could be called severe.
“Allied losses total 3,280 dead and 20,557 wounded. We have taken roughly 70,000 prisoners; the remainder appear to have been killed in action.”
The gains far outweighed the damage, and the losses were negligible compared to what the enemy had suffered. Out of Belial’s original army of more than 100,000, only 70,000 remained alive, and the disparity in fatalities was more than tenfold. After listening to Baruna’s report, Seere gave a small nod.
“You’ve worked hard, Vice-Commander Baruna.”
“…Didn’t Your Majesty shoulder far more than I did?”
Baruna glanced at Nahen beside her.
“So I hope Lord Nahen will offer generous praise and encouragement. On our behalf as well.”
Nahen let out a soft chuckle. It was interesting how Baruna worried more about praise directed at his lord than at himself. He had watched over a much younger Seere than Nahen ever had, after all.
“Understood. I’ll do exactly as the vice-commander asks.”
“Thank you. I’ll go check on the wounded now.”
“Go ahead.”
Once Baruna had withdrawn, Nahen turned to the girl at his side. Her still-round eyes and baby-smooth skin made it clear she was still very much a child.
“Seere.”
“Y-yes?!”
Nahen tilted his head, puzzled by her startled reaction. When he looked at her strangely, Seere waved her hands in a fluster.
“Ah, I was just… thinking about something else for a moment!”
Her cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed by her own odd answer. Finding the childish display adorable, Nahen smiled gently.
“Thank you.”
“Huh?”
“I’m thanking you for defeating Belial. You did exceptionally well.”
Had Seere lost to Belial, the entire flow of the battle might have changed. Even the most perfectly laid plans could become meaningless before the raw power of a Demon King. Of course Nahen would never have let her die, but the mere fact that their lord had been defeated would have dealt a heavy blow to the soldiers’ morale. The outcome would not have been this perfect victory; both sides would have bled each other dry, or the fighting would have dragged on endlessly.
Nahen felt genuine pride in Seere. He let the emotion show clearly on his face as he spoke.
“You are the greatest contributor to this victory.”
“I-I didn’t really…”
“There’s no need to be modest in front of me. You performed splendidly. This time, your teacher merely added the final touch.”
Nahen reached out and gently stroked her hair. The soft, affectionate touch left Seere dazed, completely focused on the sensation.
“You’ve truly become someone I can rely on. You’ve grown so wonderfully.”
“!!”
Seere’s eyes widened into perfect circles. She stared at him in a daze.
Nahen tilted his head again. “What’s the matter?”
“Have I… really become a reliable person to you, Teacher?”
“Hmm?”
Nahen mulled over her words. Had he spoken without thinking? But no—he truly meant it. So he gave a firm nod.
“Of course. Seere, you are my one and only disciple, and I am truly proud of you.”
Her expression brightened at once. The child smiled radiantly. Though she sometimes wore a cold look far beyond her years, in moments like these she was more adorable than anyone.
With an expectant gaze, Seere asked, “Then… does that mean I’ve become more mature?”
Nahen paused. In his eyes she still looked like a child, yet he understood the feeling. Didn’t every child long to grow up quickly?
“A little, yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Hehe… that’s a relief.”
Seere smiled brightly.
“I really am becoming an adult.”
Something about that smile felt slightly off to Nahen. Unlike her usual pure, innocent smile, it carried a faint trace of something darker—something damp and clinging.
“…Seere?”
“Yes?”
The moment he spoke her name, Nahen decided it had been his imagination. The eyes that answered him were bright and pure, like a child’s. They sparkled like blue stars.
It was just my imagination.
He smiled again and asked, “Anyway, shouldn’t you rest? You used up nearly all your mana. You must be exhausted…”
“I am tired, but the cleanup isn’t finished yet. So I’m holding on.”
“I can handle the rest. Rest if you want to.”
“Mmm…”
Seere seemed to hesitate, then her face lit up as though she had thought of something wonderful.
“In that case, Teacher.”
“Yes?”
“Since I did so well this time, please grant me one wish.”
“A wish?”
Seere had been making such requests more often lately. It was a little surprising, but Nahen didn’t dislike it. The desire for reward was a powerful motivator. After all, didn’t parents often promise their children something special if they scored above a certain mark?
He nodded readily. “All right. What would you like?”
“It’s not something I want to own.”
“Then?”
Seere rose from her seat. There was no one else in the tent—only the two of them. She sensed the moment was perfect. After all, Nahen had just said he would grant whatever she wanted.
She walked over to where he sat and pointed at his thigh.
“Please let me sit on your lap.”
“…Pardon?”
“You used to let me do it all the time, but you haven’t lately. I really like sitting on Teacher’s lap.”
When she puffed out her cheeks in clear discontent, Nahen was momentarily flustered. The reason he had stopped was obvious: Seere was growing up. He had thought that continuing such casual intimacy with a maturing girl would look strange to others and might not be good for her, either.
Yet here she was, openly showing how hurt she felt. Nahen waved his hand lightly.
“No, Seere… it’s not that I dislike it. You understand that, don’t you?”
“If it’s about other people’s eyes, then it should be fine when no one’s around, right?”
“Well…”
Nahen tilted his head. “I thought it might not be good for you, either…”
“But I like sitting on your lap!”
“That’s not what I—”
He wore a troubled expression. Seeing it, Seere’s mood visibly sank. When her face fell into a dejected pout, Nahen was startled.
“…Is that truly your wish?”
“Yes.”
Though still conflicted, Nahen tried to understand. How much must she have missed his lap to call it a wish? Her appearance might have matured, but she was still only twelve. In the world he came from, that was the age of a fifth-grade elementary student. It was perfectly normal for her to throw tantrums and still crave the embrace of the person who had cared for her.
After a moment’s thought, he finally nodded.
“All right. Come here.”
“It’s really okay?”
“Yes.”
Seere beamed and approached. She turned around and gently settled onto his lap, then leaned her head and back lightly against him.
“Hehe~.”
Simply being like this seemed to fill her with joy; she giggled nonstop. Nahen gazed at the back of her head for a while. She used to reach only his chest when she sat like this. Now she had grown enough to block half his view. Her snow-white hair remained flawless, like freshly fallen snow, and her pure, baby-soft skin was unchanged. The once-tiny Seere had shot up in height, yet the rest of her still felt the same.
“Teacher.”
“Yes?”
“Could you… stroke my hair?”
Even the way she acted toward him remained completely childlike. She still loved having her hair gently stroked, still slept while hugging a doll, and still adored pudding and cake as snacks. Perhaps the one who had changed the most wasn’t Seere, but Nahen himself.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them with a soft smile.
Maybe I’ve been overthinking things with this child.
Nodding, he raised his hand and tenderly stroked her soft hair. Seere let out a small, contented sound, like a cat purring.
“Seere.”
“Yes?”
“You must maintain your dignity in front of others. But when we’re alone like this…”
He gave her head a few light pats with his palm.
“You can act as spoiled as you like. I am your one and only teacher, after all.”
“One and only…”
Seere seemed to roll the words over in her mind. Then she turned to look at him, offering a bright, clear smile.
“Yes, Teacher!”
Abaddon, having left Belial’s side, continued descending. He passed through the lowest layers of the Demon Realm, reached the first floor, yet did not stop. He went deeper still—to a place lower than the first floor of the Demon Realm. A realm where the screams and wails of souls steeped in agony echoed ceaselessly through every season. Hell.
Upon arriving in Hell, Abaddon headed straight for a certain castle. It was enormous beyond the word’s ability to describe. Its size was so vast that the spires could be seen from anywhere in Hell.
Inside the castle, Abaddon walked past roses with five petals blooming upside-down across the ceiling. At last he reached the largest chamber within the already colossal fortress.
“Abaddon.”
“Yes, Master.”
A giant of a man sat there. Not only his body but the throne beneath him was gigantic. He seemed to transcend the word “giant”—one would have to call him a Colossus. He was Abaddon’s master, one of the ten Archdemons who ruled Hell: Golab.
The Archdemon who symbolized cruelty, the mighty demon also known as the Tyrant.
“Why have you returned?”
“Belial has fallen.”
“…Fallen? Was he not on the 67th floor?”
“He was. But something interesting happened. Do you remember Seir von Devata?”
“Of course.”
The Colossus rested his chin on his fist, elbow propped on the throne.
“Why is that name suddenly being mentioned?”
“He was killed during an invasion by his own blood relative, Seere von Devata.”
“…Surprising. I thought one of his caliber would not fall to a lower-ranking Demon King. Is it the name Devata after all?”
“There is one more reason.”
“Speak.”
At Golab’s command, Abaddon bowed his head lower.
“It appears one of the great ones was present.”
“What? Who…”
“The master of the Inverted Kingdom.”
Golab lowered the hand supporting his chin. He gripped the armrests with both hands and shot to his feet, roaring.
“Why is that bastard there?!”
“I do not know the reason, but on the 67th floor I discovered traces of the Beast of the Apocalypse, Leviathan. There is only one being that monster follows.”
“That had better be the truth. You will stake your life on those words.”
“It is an undeniable fact.”
“What are the chances Gamaliel already knows of this?”
“…I cannot say for certain. But given that it concerns that person, it would be safer to assume Lord Gamaliel already knows.”
The Colossus drew in a deep breath and exhaled. The gust alone whipped fiercely through the audience chamber. After finally calming himself, Golab spoke.
“…Yes. You are right. I must meet with Gamaliel and speak with him.”
“I will go as messenger.”
“Don’t bother. Would Gamaliel spare a man? If you wish to show me a dried-up mummy with all vitality sucked out, then by all means go.”
Abaddon bowed deeply, expressing gratitude for his master’s consideration.
The Colossus stepped down from the dais with a heavy thud. Each footfall shook the entire castle. The eyes that usually gleamed with cruelty were now filled with pure puzzlement.
“Just what is he doing there after emptying the kingdom…?”
Golab left the audience chamber. His colossal body moved toward the most lewd and obscene region in all of Hell.