The Four Demon Kings
“Your Majesty. I earnestly beg you to reconsider.”
“Look at this. Our chamberlain is bullying me again. This is how I live. A Demon King getting nagged by her chamberlain every single day! Sob sob! Doesn’t it just make you want to cry too? Hmm?”
Astaroth stroked the severed head in her hands as if it were some precious treasure, giggling all the while.
Of everything in her collection so far, this was probably the piece she cherished most.
After all, it belonged to that utterly foolish bastard who had dared try to harm him.
“Whoever the hell it was that spared you lot—if I ever find out, I’ll tear them apart!”
And what happened after that? Ah, right. That was how it went.
I neatly snipped off the head, Mar dug the heart out while he was still alive, El crushed every limb, and finally Sitri hung every last one of his family and underlings upside down and drained them dry!
Disgusting scum. The kind of monsters who would sell even their own kind into slavery or devour them the moment they became a nuisance. It was because of you bloodthirsty maniacs that this ridiculous war ever started in the first place.
We should have been back at Ahjussi’s side ages ago, yet you’ll never know how much we suffered cleaning up the mess you filthy bastards left behind.
“Your Majesty.”
The chamberlain pleaded with Astaroth once more. Please, he begged, rescind the decision.
The civil war had only just ended, and now every key figure who had brought it to a close was about to leave? Chaos would inevitably follow.
The hardliners they had barely managed to suppress might raise their heads again and start clamoring for war.
If that happened, the ceasefire their kings had worked so hard to secure could all come to nothing—
“Maki.”
Astaroth kept tossing the head into the air and catching it as she continued. Her crimson hair swayed beside it, looking for all the world like cascading blood.
“I know exactly what you’re worried about. You’re afraid something unsavory will break out while we’re away visiting Ahjussi, right?”
“I am ashamed to admit it, but yes. Though every Demon King who opposed Your Majesty and your companions has been eliminated, the discontented can always rise again. Therefore, if we could simply watch the situation a little longer…”
“Why should we?”
“Your Majesty?”
“Why stop the discontented from showing up? Does stopping them actually keep them from appearing? No, it doesn’t. In that case, let them show themselves all they want. After that we just harvest a few more heads.”
At those words the chamberlain’s mouth snapped shut.
“Y-Your Majesty. What… what do you mean by that…?”
“Exactly what I said. I have no intention of suppressing them any further. Us leaving our posts? We’re deliberately giving them an opening.”
The aide attending Marmar stared at her in open panic.
No intention of suppressing them further? Deliberately creating an opening was the plan?
Then what had the great purge been for? Hadn’t they carried it out precisely to prevent this?
“Think about it. As long as we’re here, those creatures will only keep watching for our reaction.”
“…I suppose that is likely, yes.”
“Which is why we need to step away. We have to shove them in the back and tell them to try something stupid. Only then will more bugs appear for us to catch.”
A pure white, slender hand moved with exquisite grace, tracing elegant lines as if dancing across piano keys—enough to seize the gaze of any man who saw it.
Yet the aide could not help swallowing hard at the sight.
He knew. He had seen it countless times. Those same hands closing around countless hearts, clawing open living chests while their owners still breathed.
A beautiful smiling face paired with actions that were anything but. This black-haired Demon King was like the deep shadow of death that arrived at the final moment.
“I won’t stop them. Dissatisfaction? Tell them to stand up if they have any. It’s a good thing. More hearts to pull out.”
“….”
“I’ll take them all out, put them in bottles, and turn them into jewels as red as rubies to show Oraboni. I’ll tell him, ‘Look how much effort we put in for you, for your dream.’ Then he’ll praise me, won’t he?”
I rather think he’ll be horrified, not impressed, the words kept circling inside the aide’s mouth.
But he never let them out. One’s own life, after all, is a very precious thing.
“So let’s drop the subject now. If you keep insisting…”
The aide flinched—
—as Marmar’s gaze settled on his chest. He trembled.
Even though Marmar had never once harmed her own people, the mere memory of her extracting enemies’ hearts forced him to take a step back.
“I’m joking.”
Marmar offered a gentle smile, then turned and headed for her treasure vault.
Watching her go, the aide repeated to himself over and over that he must never entertain any foolish thoughts.
Shasha-sha—
The woman wearing a monocle processed the mountain of documents before her with practiced skill.
She worked so quickly that the administrator standing beside her with a seal even entertained the irreverent thought, Is she even doing this properly?
“Don’t worry.”
“E-excuse me?”
“I’m doing it properly.”
“Ah—ahhh! Yes! Your Majesty!”
The administrator hastily buried his head. The blue Demon King glanced at him once, then returned her gaze to the papers.
“This is the preparatory stage for going to see Master. There’s no way I’d half-ass it.”
“Th-that’s right. Of course, of course.”
Master? Of all people, his own liege—the woman known as the White Plague—was calling someone “Master”?
The administrator felt his head might split open. Just who had been in his king’s past?
What on earth had that person done to make this terrifying woman smile so happily while saying “Master”?
“I believe I mentioned it before? That there is someone for whom even offering my life would not be enough. Ah, this part here. This section is wrong, so rewrite it and resubmit the report. Get it wrong again and you’ll be punished.”
Just now—did she just read my mind again? Aaaaah! A scream nearly burst from his throat on its own.
What actually came out of his mouth, of course, was, “I’ll correct it immediately and resubmit it.”
“And another thing. Those ones we caught last time—are they still in the underground dungeon?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes. Most likely. The executioner has been away for a while, so they haven’t been dealt with yet, but is there some issue…?”
“The executioner is busy with his own work, and you’re busy with administrative duties. Doesn’t it irritate you having to worry about them on top of everything?”
At the words of the blue Demon King, Sitri, the administrator’s eyes rolled about.
Honestly speaking, it was a nuisance. Of course it irritated him. Looking after the very people who had defied his king meant he couldn’t even finish his own work.
But he couldn’t just kill them. That was the executioner’s job, and it required the king’s permission first.
“I’ll take care of them for you. So they won’t bother you later. How does that sound?”
“Y-Your Majesty?”
“Go grab them and hang them upside down from the castle gate. I’ll handle the rest.”
Watching Sitri’s calm smile, the administrator hiccupped without meaning to.
True to the name White Plague, she clearly intended to drain every last drop of their blood and kill them.
A single line was drawn across the pure white paper. That line soon transformed into a complete picture.
There was no hesitation. With every stroke, the image of a man was etched more clearly onto the page.
As if she were looking at him right in front of her, as if she had drawn this picture countless times before.
The woman with her glittering silver hair tied back tightly continued sketching in a state of complete absorption.
After a long while she paused and tilted her head slightly.
Was something not to her liking? Yet the picture on the paper was perfect.
“….”
The woman studied her drawing, then suddenly tried lifting the corners of her own mouth.
Her eyes were not smiling at all; only her lips rose, creating a thoroughly strange expression.
Even so, she did not stop the motion.
“Your Majesty.”
The knight standing beside her carefully stepped forward.
The woman nodded, then returned at once to her expressionless face.
Immediately afterward the knight did his best to produce a smiling face of his own.
Only then did something that satisfied her seem to appear.
She nodded and added a few more strokes.
“Have you finished?”
A nod—
The Iron Witch, the Silver Demon King El, turned the easel to show the picture she had drawn.
There, a man wore the faintest of smiles as he stroked a young girl’s hair.
“It’s a fine work.”
The knight clapped and offered praise.
It was a picture he always saw while remaining at his liege’s side. And it was always the same man who became the subject of that picture.
Though he knew nothing of her past, one thing was certain: his king missed that man terribly. She wanted to be at his side as soon as possible.
“Will we be able to see him soon?”
At the question, El’s hand froze completely still.
Soon she would be able to meet him. That person. Him. At last. Finally.
Just thinking it made her chest feel ready to burst. Her entire body burned hot.
At the same time, blood began to well in the depths of El’s long-submerged eyes.
Sssk—
El pushed the easel aside and slowly rose from her seat.
Then she looked silently at the knight who guarded her side.
It was an order. Soundless, yet absolutely impossible to refuse.
“I shall prepare at once.”
He bowed his head and headed straight for the training grounds.
If he did not quickly vent the heat through sparring, something terrifying would happen.
Even if he ended up covered in blood, he had to throw his body on the line for his king.
“Tomorrow’s finally here.”
“It is tomorrow.”
“It took so long.”
A nod—
In order: Astaroth, Marmar, Sitri, and finally El.
The four Demon Kings, gathered in secret, all thought of the same man.
“I miss Ahjussi.”
“It’s Oraboni. Anyway, he’s doing well, right?”
“He should be. We’ve been collecting news the whole time.”
A nod—
While thoroughly concealing themselves, they had just as thoroughly gathered information on Lethe.
Fortunately he was doing well. Or rather… could you really call it “doing well”?
“They say he became a war hero, but Ahjussi always hated noisy things.”
“He said he wanted to live peacefully. That he refused to work himself to death even here.”
“Last we heard, he was at the Academy, wasn’t he?”
A nod—
“Wish granted, then? He always said he wanted to teach students there.”
“And we’re going in as students ourselves.”
“It’s steps toward the peace Master desires, and we get to be together. The best.”
“Best.”
El, who had only been nodding, finally spoke a single word.
The other three Demon Kings all turned to her with a chorus of “Whoa!”
“El’s actually talking. She must really be happy we’re going to see Ahjussi, huh?”
“Who wouldn’t be? I want to go right this second.”
“Hold back. Just barging in would only put Master in a difficult position.”
A tilt of the head—
“Hey, look at El. She’s saying, ‘I think the one calling him Master is going to make things even more awkward for him.’”
At Astaroth’s words Marmar laughed, and even El wore a faint smile.
Only Sitri ended up looking sulky, yet she still refused to give up on “Master.”
The four Demon Kings spent the time chattering away like that.
Any of the Demon Kings they had purged would have fainted on the spot if they had seen it.