The Ex-Girlfriend with a Sword Cannot Tell a Lie
The secretary’s pen stopped. I heard it. The sound of the nib, which had been scratching away, coming to a halt on the parchment. It was faint, but in the audience chamber, even such a small sound carried quite clearly. Especially when an ex-girlfriend with a sword and the Captain of the Black Armor Guard were keeping each other in check.
I looked at the secretary. "Why did you stop?"
The secretary’s neck stiffened. "Your Majesty." He looked down at the ledger. "Radin is a half-breed of the Horned Demon tribe."
A half-breed of the Horned Demon tribe. A new term. No, in truth, Lucion’s body already knew what it meant. A lineage where magic power strongly dwells in the horns, bones, muscles, and skin. A class of foot soldiers that noble blood families often shove into the front lines of battle. Those who bring back military merit but are never allowed to sit at the table of the bloodline. Damn it. I tried to save one soldier, and out pops a resident registration document from the Demon Realm. Name. Affiliation. Bloodline. Magic power ranking. Half-breed status. Why did administration in this other world have to evolve in such a sinister way?
"Continue," I said. "What about the other two?"
The secretary swallowed hard. "One is of the Black Flame lineage, with a diluted bloodline. He is not a regular soldier; he is a former auxiliary from the Eastern military camp."
He looked at the last soldier. "The other is a lower-ranked bloodline of the Horned Demon tribe. He has a history of being registered as a private soldier belonging to a blood family."
A private soldier belonging to a blood family. At those words, Hermun’s eyes shifted ever so slightly. Kardia heard it, too. Barkan didn't move. That guard captain was so still I wondered if he was actually made of stone. I’m envious. I want that kind of mental fortitude, too.
I pressed my fingertips together under the desk. "And so?"
The secretary bowed his head. "If you place them on the Protection List, the officers of the Eastern blood families may object."
"The reason?"
"In principle, private soldiers belonging to a blood family move with that family’s military register. If Your Majesty places them on the Protection List directly, it is equivalent to the Black King Castle reclassifying the blood family’s military authority."
Great. I was just trying to save three soldiers, and suddenly I’m getting a lecture on the Demon Realm’s constitutional law. I’m going crazy.
"Your Majesty," Hermun said in a low voice. "This is not a simple matter of amnesty."
"I know."
I don't know. I just found out. But a Demon King must never let it show that he just found out. If I show too much of the "newbie Demon King" vibe, I’ll be eaten alive immediately.
Kardia opened her mouth. "The blood family officers will not sit idly by."
Her hand was now off the hilt of her sword. But the sword was still at her waist. That wasn't just a weapon; it was a third party interjecting into our conversation. A damn rude third party.
"If that soldier enters the shadow of the Black King Castle," Kardia said, looking at Radin, "the Eastern military camp will no longer be able to treat him as a simple deserter."
"So?" I asked.
Kardia looked at me. "Your Majesty is not trying to save a single soldier." She said, "You are pulling a soldier out of the hands of a blood family."
The audience chamber went quiet. I looked at Radin. Radin couldn't lift his head. He still didn't know what kind of political bomb he had become. He was pitiful. Truly pitiful. He came here trusting in the Royal Decree, and his life suddenly became Sample A of the Demon Kingdom’s class struggle.
"Secretary."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Write it down."
The secretary picked up his pen. "Radin and two others. Register to the Black King Castle Protection List."
The pen moved, then stopped. "Your Majesty, the bloodline notation—"
"Note it," I said. "Do not hide it."
The secretary’s hand trembled. I continued, "However, change the classification."
"How should I write it?"
I looked at Radin. And then at the two soldiers. "Not a blood family private soldier, but a Black King Castle Protected Soldier."
The tip of the pen scratched the paper. Kardia let out a breath, very slowly. I heard that sound.
"Bloodline is not what comes first," my voice came out low. "Whether they have entered the shadow of the Black King Castle comes first."
This statement was a bit dangerous. I know that, too. The shadow of the Demon King. Now that I’ve said it, it sounds a bit like something a middle-schooler with a dark fantasy complex would say. But strangely, in the audience chamber, those words didn't feel light. The black marble. The high ceiling. The Vergrad crest carved into the wall. And the soldiers kneeling before me. All of those things were supporting those words. Good. The background effect worked perfectly. Interior design is truly great.
"Touching someone on the Protection List," I said, "is not a matter of bloodline."
The secretary’s pen waited. "It is meddling with the judgment of the Black King Castle."
The pen moved again. Hermun stayed still. Barkan stayed still. Kardia was looking at Radin. No. She was looking at Radin’s shoulders. Shoulders that had slumped lower than before. Hands that had lost their tension.
"Confirmed," Kardia said. "Then I shall take my leave."
Good. Finally, the exit button. The ex-girlfriend with a sword says she’ll leave voluntarily. A normal person would say, "Have a safe trip," and see her to the front door. I was already applauding inside. Congratulations. Disaster alert cleared. Kardia Noxbell is leaving the audience chamber. But my mouth said something else.
"It is not over yet."
Damn it. Why did you do that, mouth? Get a grip. That woman said she would leave. Hazardous material is about to be removed, so why are you trying to get a customer review?
Kardia stopped. "What do you mean?"
I looked at her. "Leave, Kardia Noxbell."
"You just stopped me."
"I said leave," I said. "And tell them what you saw."
Kardia’s fingers touched the hilt of her sword. "Are you intending to use me as a messenger?"
"A messenger conveys my words," I shook my head. "You only need to convey what you saw."
A short silence. Kardia was weighing me. I could feel that gaze. Martial power. Guts. Schemes. Lies. She was a woman who measured people like a sword. Whether they were sharp. Whether they were dull. Whether they would break. Whether they could endure the blood after cutting. Damn it. I feel like I’m standing in front of a combat power measuring device. I hate even stepping on a scale, so why am I standing on a Demon King power measuring platform?
"Why must I complete Your Majesty’s board?" Kardia asked.
"Because you are already standing on the board."
Her jaw tightened, just a little. I continued, "You did not kill those soldiers."
Radin’s shoulders flinched. "You brought them to the Black King Castle."
Kardia did not answer.
"And you just saw it," I shifted my gaze toward Radin. "That this soldier is still alive."
Veins stood out on the back of Kardia’s hand. Barkan’s scabbard rang ever so slightly. "So, you have only one thing to do." I looked at Kardia again. "Do not convey my words."
Kardia didn't move.
"Only tell them what your own eyes have seen."
Instead, the back of the hand gripping the sword hilt turned red. "And if I do not speak?" Kardia asked in a low voice.
I didn't answer immediately. In truth, I wasn't confident I could answer right away. Inside, I was frantically cycling through options. Threats? Too weak. Orders? That’s just repetition. Requests? That’s real-time deletion of the Demon King’s dignity. Then there was only one thing left. I had to speak in Kardia’s language. The language of the sword.
"Then your sword," I didn't move the corners of my lips, "will become a sword that protects a lie."
Kardia’s hand stopped. Barkan’s gaze was pinned to the back of her hand. Hermun’s pen also stopped. Kardia didn't say anything for a long time. That silence was the answer. Kardia Noxbell would not lie. At least, she wasn't a woman who would pretend she hadn't seen what she had seen. To pretend she hadn't seen it, she would have to dirty her own sword.
I didn't demand loyalty from her. I didn't demand forgiveness, either. I just stood her in front of the fact that I had changed. It’s truly fascinating. I only learned this after becoming the Demon King. Ruling people wasn't about giving orders every single time. Sometimes, it was about standing them in front of the truth so they couldn't run away.
Of course, inside, it was a bit different. Damn it. I could have just sent her back and been done with it. I just threw open the door to the truth. I don't know if I’m a Demon King or a counseling center director.
Kardia eventually took her hand off the sword hilt. And she bowed her head, just a little. This time, it wasn't lacking in etiquette. It wasn't an arrogant posture. It was just a brief acknowledgment.
"I will only speak of what I have seen."
"That is enough."
"I will not convey Your Majesty’s words."
"That is what I told you to do."
Kardia looked at Radin. Radin was still kneeling. Kardia said, "Stand up."
Radin hesitated. When I nodded, he stood up slowly. Kardia looked at him once. It wasn't a testing gaze like before. It was a gaze to confirm if he was alive. She looked at me again.
"Your Majesty Lucion." That title was still awkward. To her. To me. "Whether the shadow of the Black King Castle truly protects these soldiers," Kardia said, "I will come back to confirm it."
Wow. A notice of a return visit has been posted. The customer has left an intention to revisit. If I fail the satisfaction survey, she plans to draw her sword next time.
I only nodded on the outside. "You will be able to see it then, too."
Kardia turned her body. The sword was still at her waist. But it wasn't drawn. She didn't receive the official decree. She didn't receive the Black King Castle’s orders, either. Instead, she left the audience chamber with empty hands, gripping the hilt of her sword. That was enough.
I watched the door she had left through. And I muttered to myself. Damn it. I only put three soldiers on the Protection List. But I’ve planted my witness right in the middle of the Eastern military camp.