War Leaves Behind Receipts
It hadn't even been half a day since I issued the Royal Decree. Yet, upon descending to the reception room of the Black King Castle's outer palace, I found it already swarming with envoys from the Eastern Blood Families. They hadn't rushed here; they had been nearby all along. They had been lurking in the shadows near the Black King Castle, waiting for the right moment, and had scurried out the second the decree was posted.
“It wasn’t us.” That was the message they were here to deliver. It was impressive. The survival instincts of nobles were faster than any messenger horse. They weren't enemy soldiers charging in with blades, nor were they prisoners dragged here to surrender. They wore well-pressed formal attire, displayed shimmering family crests, and maintained dignified expressions. And in their arms, they clutched bundles of documents.
I was momentarily speechless at the sight. I had won. I had clearly won. So why was I being swarmed by petitioners instead of enemy generals?
“Your Majesty,” Hermun whispered from beside me. “We shall officially begin the reception of explanations from the Eastern Blood Families.”
“Reception.” I chewed on the word. I had thought that when a war ended, it would leave behind spoils of war. I expected corpses, flags, or perhaps some somber, epic music. Reality was different. War left behind receipts. And I had become not a Demon King, but a wartime auditor. This is driving me crazy.
“Bring in the first envoy.”
The door opened. An envoy bearing the crest of the blue horn entered. It was the Harben Blood Family. They were the ones who had operated transport wagons around the Eastern military camps. The envoy knelt on the floor and spoke in a very soft, smooth voice.
“To the Great Majesty, the Harben Blood Family offers only the glory of the Demon King’s throne—”
“Cut it short.”
The envoy’s mouth snapped shut. I tapped my fingers against the desk. “Glory, loyalty, long-standing friendship, unwavering respect. Leave all that out.”
“Pardon?”
“If you came to explain, then explain. You aren't here to recite poetry.”
Hermun unfolded a ledger without a word. The envoy hurriedly pushed a document forward.
“The Harben Blood Family has never submitted to the military orders of Belion Vergrad. Furthermore, we were not involved in the movement of the supply depot on the outskirts of Noxvine, and the deployment of Kardia Noxbell is also unrelated to our family.”
The words were smooth. Too smooth, which made them suspicious. I looked down at the document.
“Where is the original military order?”
“Pardon?”
“You said you never received orders from Belion’s side.”
“That is correct.”
“Then where is the original copy of the order you received that day, or the communication record proving you didn't receive one?”
The envoy’s lips stiffened. “W-well, due to the chaos of the war at the time—”
“What about the transport records?”
“Pardon?”
“You said you weren't involved in moving the supply depot. Did you bring the records of where the Harben Blood Family’s wagons were that day?”
Sweat beaded on the envoy’s forehead. “That part will be submitted at a later—”
“What about the dispatch seal?”
The envoy couldn't answer. I folded the document. “Original military order, transport records, dispatch seal.” My voice was calmer than I expected. “If even one of these is missing, it’s not an explanation—it’s an excuse.”
The reception room fell silent. The envoy bowed his head even lower. Damn it. This is working. I hadn't drawn a sword or unleashed the Demon King’s power. I had simply asked for the original paperwork. Yet, the face of this noble envoy had turned as pale as if I had held a blade to his throat. I thought nobles in this world valued their pride more than their lives. I was wrong. They were more terrified of evidentiary documents.
“Next.”
The second envoy was from the Merk Blood Family. He wore the crest of a gray knot. He looked well-prepared. And being well-prepared meant his lies would be more expensive. As soon as he entered, he bowed and presented a document.
“The Merk Blood Family was not aware of the supply depot relocation in advance. However, we did confirm that three wagons belonging to the Harben Blood Family passed through the Eastern Third Road.”
The Harben envoy’s shoulders trembled ever so slightly. I narrowed my eyes. Oh. This is getting interesting.
The Merk envoy continued with his head bowed. “We merely judged that movement to be a standard military logistics procedure.”
“Who made that judgment?”
“A low-ranking official in charge of logistics—”
“Name.”
The Merk envoy’s tongue faltered. “Write down the name.”
Hermun’s pen moved. *Scratch. Scratch.* I listened to the sound and thought: *These guys.* They were already digging each other’s graves before I even had to probe. Harben said they didn't know. Merk said they saw Harben. The third one coming in would probably say Merk did something. It was a high-class dogfight. The nobles of the Demon Kingdom might lack loyalty, but they were master craftsmen when it came to backstabbing.
The third envoy was from the Orza Blood Family. He bore the crest of a black thorn. His eyes were cast down, but his mouth was sharp. It was as I expected.
“I understand the deployment of Kardia Noxbell was a unilateral decision by the Noxbell side. However, there is a rumor that the Merk Blood Family requested the relocation of the outer supply depot—”
The Merk envoy’s face hardened. “A rumor?”
“It is difficult to verify due to the war.”
“Are you speaking of unverified rumors before the Majesty?”
“Our family merely does not hide what we know.”
I watched them for a moment. Harben. Merk. Orza. All three envoys had their heads bowed. Outwardly, loyalty. Inwardly, evasion of responsibility. Hidden behind every crest was a small blade aimed at someone else’s throat. I thought it would be funny. In truth, it was a little funny. But strangely, the laughter didn't reach the end. I had just been thinking about how to drive those blades into each other. Very naturally. I had thought about whose throat to tighten first before I thought about how to save lives. It seemed that playing the role of a King suited me better than I thought. I felt a sense of filth toward myself.
I looked down at my hands. There was no blood on them. Instead, there was ink. I didn't yet know which of the two was harder to wash off.
“Hermun.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Place the explanations of the three families side by side and compare them.”
“I shall obey.”
“Mark the parts where their statements conflict in red. Divide them into military orders, logistics, and deployment authorization.”
The envoys held their breath. I looked at them and said, “I will not pass judgment today.”
At those words, the shoulders of the three envoys relaxed just a little. I immediately added, “However, everything said today will be recorded.”
The relaxed shoulders stiffened again. Good. Now they would know. This place is not where one buys forgiveness. It is where one measures the length of the rope that will hang them later.
The documents piled on the reception desk looked like human faces. Harben, Merk, Orza. Their names were Blood Families, but behind them hung the people who drove the wagons, the people who opened the warehouse doors, and the people who forged the military orders. This single ledger would save someone’s livelihood and tighten the noose around someone else’s neck.
Just then, a guard entered from outside the door.
“Your Majesty. A document has arrived from the Roadmia Blood Family.”
I lifted my eyes. “Is it an explanation?”
“No, sir.”
The guard held a thick ledger with both hands. A black cover. A silver crest. Roadmia. The moment I saw that name, my fingertips stiffened ever so briefly. Ivelin Roadmia. I told her not to bring back memories. This time, she sent a ledger.
I chuckled softly. “Bring it here.”
The ledger was placed on the desk. Other families sought a way to live with words. Roadmia knocks on the door with numbers? She was certainly consistent. The woman who calculated even when discarding people had returned with a calculation sheet. Damn it. Her taste was truly unchanging.
I flipped to the first page of the ledger. Date. Wagon number. Transport items. Dispatch seal. The sources of the supplies that flowed into the Eastern outer supply depot were listed one after another. Hermun bowed his head quietly beside me.
“It is the original.”
“It looks like it.”
I stopped my hand in the middle of the first page. A familiar name was written there. The Harben Blood Family. The name of the family that had just told me they knew nothing. The transport items were horse feed and dried meat. The dispatch seal was clear. The date was the night before Kardia Noxbell moved.
I slowly lifted my head. The Harben envoy was still kneeling. His face was much paler than before. I tapped the ledger with my finger. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Harben.”
The envoy’s body lowered.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“There is good news and bad news.” I said. “The good news is that your explanation has been received.”
His lips trembled.
“The bad news is.” I smiled while keeping the ledger open. “The receipt that just arrived has refuted your explanation, hasn't it?”
Every envoy in the reception room looked at the ledger at the same time. No one spoke. In that silence, I realized: if you draw a sword, everyone sees it. But no one knows what is in a ledger until you open it. And once it is opened, it is too late.
“Hermun.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Hold the Harben Blood Family’s explanation in abeyance.”
“What shall I record as the reason?”
I thought for a moment. Then I replied, “Conflict of evidence.”
Hermun’s pen moved. *Scratch. Scratch.* I listened to the sound and looked down at the ledger again. My hands did not tremble. Truly. Not even a little. I didn't know yet if that was a good thing.
“Next family.” I said. “Forget the words, tell them to bring their ledgers and come in.”
The envoys bowed in unison. My gaze descended once more to the silver crest on the black cover. Roadmia. It wasn't an ex-girlfriend. It was a financial audit knocking at the door.