The Voice of the Death King
The king of Raymond weighed the offer. Accept the conditions laid out by the other side, or reject them. The deal was blatantly favorable to Ellemental Kingdom, yet the way Pride presented it—arrogant, almost dismissive—made the decision far from simple.
“This country is nothing but a joke to them.”
What stung even more was that everything had unfolded exactly as he had feared. The meeting with his ministers had been pointless; he had been led by the nose the entire time.
“There’s no reason to refuse.”
But pride alone was reason enough not to shake hands. The king glanced at Majoan. The Magic Sovereign met his eyes and gave a small nod, clearly thinking the same thing.
“Your Majesty, may I ask the envoy a question?”
Before the king could speak, Majoan addressed Pride directly.
“You may.”
“Thank you.”
With the king’s permission granted, Majoan turned to Pride.
“What would you like to know?”
Pride frowned slightly, searching his memory for anything in his earlier statements that could be problematic. Nothing came to mind. So what was Majoan after?
Is he just looking for an excuse to nitpick?
He decided to be magnanimous and let it pass. But the next words out of Majoan’s mouth wiped the composure from Pride’s face.
“The conditions you offered are excellent. More than excellent, really. They overflow with generosity.”
That was true only if every single promise was kept to the letter.
“What guarantee do we have that you will actually fulfill them?”
The relationship between Ellemental Kingdom and the underworld was far too thin to build trust on. What if the underworld promised to eliminate the Tugwi Guard, only to turn around and help them flee to Ellemental instead? The kingdom would suffer far greater damage than before.
In short, before any contract could be signed, the real issue was trust.
“……Are you saying you cannot trust my master’s word?”
It was a reasonable point. Yet Pride had never even considered the possibility. To him, the Death King was the sole object of worship; his words were law and truth. Doubting him was itself a sin. Majoan’s question sounded like nothing less than an attack on the Death King himself.
“No, that is not what I meant.”
Majoan shook his head, correcting the misunderstanding.
“Someone of the Death King’s stature would not lie over something like this. His past actions make that clear. He challenges his enemies openly; he does not hide behind falsehoods.”
“Besides, with his power, stopping the Tugwi Guard would be trivial. Even without him personally intervening, the strength you have already shown is proof enough that the underworld can handle them.”
“The problem lies elsewhere. What I cannot trust is you. Everything we have heard so far has come only from your mouth.”
Can you truly carry out every word you have spoken? What responsibility will you take if you fail? Are your words truly the same as the Death King’s?
Exactly as Pride had suspected, it was a petty jab meant to salvage Majoan’s pride. Yet the accusation made Pride’s expression relax instead.
His loyalty is remarkable.
When the Death King had been questioned, Pride had radiated open hostility, ready to fight. The guards had even gone on alert, frightened by the pressure. But the moment he realized the attack was aimed at himself, that killing intent vanished completely. His eyes still twitched with irritation, yet that was all.
For someone of Pride’s caliber, such self-control was impressive.
“What must I do to earn your trust?”
If they could not believe him, then what action would convince them? Majoan smiled.
“The answer is simple. I want to speak with the Death King directly and hear his confirmation.”
“……”
The situation had reversed. Pride’s previously relaxed face tightened with concern, while Majoan’s expression regained the ease Pride had lost.
“That will be difficult.”
“There is no need for a face-to-face meeting. A phone call will suffice.”
“……”
“Or are you admitting that everything you said earlier was not the Death King’s will?”
This sly old man disguised as a young one……! To pick a fight with such an absurd excuse was beyond ridiculous. Pride’s eyes trembled harder than before. His fists, hidden beneath his sleeves, clenched until they shook.
I cannot simply let this pass.
Yet he could not storm out and break off negotiations as he had done with Yggdrasil. If the deal collapsed because the other side could not trust them, the fault would clearly lie with Pride—and by extension, with his failure to carry out the Death King’s will. This was nothing like the earlier negotiation.
“……You are far more cunning than your reputation suggests, Majoan.”
And Majoan knew it. He had read Pride’s character perfectly: the man who had used the Death King’s name as a shield throughout the talks would never destroy the negotiation over a mere provocation.
He is certainly a clever man.
At the same time, Pride felt a fresh wave of admiration. On the surface, Majoan’s words were nothing but a petty complaint, but beneath them lay a calculated move to strip away the Death King’s authority that Pride had been leaning on.
You trust the Death King, but not me. Can you truly speak for him?
Pride had understood the trap instantly and changed his stance. That alone proved he knew his own limits better than anyone.
“So you wanted to find even the smallest clue about my master.”
And Pride had seen through Majoan’s hidden goal as well. Even a single exchange of words created a difference. Tone, rhythm, word choice, breathing, pacing—any of them could reveal countless details. Majoan intended to glean whatever he could about the Death King from this conversation. The gap between zero and one was small, but the gap between nothing and something was enormous.
“I have lost.”
Pride shook his head, admitting defeat. There was no point wasting time on a problem with no solution.
“Please wait a moment.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a smartphone. Holding the screen at an angle no one else could see, he tapped it carefully. Majoan clicked his tongue in disappointment; he had hoped to glimpse the Death King’s number, but Pride’s caution made that impossible.
“……”
Instead, Majoan sharpened his hearing. Even at minimum volume, a smartphone still produced some sound. No matter how careful Pride was, this much could not be hidden. The entire audience chamber fell into heavy silence as everyone listened intently, even the sound of swallowing.
“Hel——”
Shut up.
The moment Pride tried to greet the person on the other end, a blunt curse cut him off. Thanks to Majoan’s mana-enhanced hearing, every word reached him clearly.
If you wake me up with that loud voice again, I really will kill you.
The tone was indifferent, almost annoyed—casual and blunt. The speaker sounded like a man in his twenties or thirties, but age meant little to an Absolute Being.
So? What is it?
That single phrase already painted a picture of the man’s personality. Majoan listened carefully, sketching the Death King in his mind.
Hmm.
While Majoan gathered information, Pride finished explaining the situation: he had come to the royal castle to carry out the Death King’s orders, negotiations had hit a snag, and he needed guidance.
“I am deeply sorry for forcing you to intervene because of my own mistake. I will prepare to commit seppuku the moment I return.”
At this point I’m starting to think you just want to commit seppuku. Whatever. Put it on speakerphone. Let the king hear me too.
He already knew they were listening. Of course he did. Yet he did not seem to care. That was either carelessness or boldness.
“Understood, Master.”
Pride switched the call to speakerphone without hesitation.
You people really are exhausting.
The moment the speaker activated, the Death King’s voice—thick with irritation—filled the chamber. His personality was that of someone who answered to no one, a supreme existence who stood above even other Absolutes like Tugwi or the Empress. If one had to compare, he felt similar to the Ice Empress.
If you’re going to complain that much, just cancel the deal.
Majoan’s eyes widened at the unexpected statement.
I gave this guy full authority. I know his abilities better than anyone. Right now, he is my proxy. Everything he says is the same as if I said it myself. And you still don’t believe him?
Petty tricks, pride contests, wasting time—I hate all of it. That’s why I had him offer generous terms in the first place. When I decide to do something, I want it done quickly. I despise unnecessary delays.
If that’s what you want, then listen. Everything this guy says is exactly what I would say. We will accommodate you as much as possible from our position and make sure you suffer no harm. So if you don’t like it, refuse outright. I don’t want any complaints later.
“……I understand your will, Death King.”
There was no deception. He spoke with complete confidence. In a way, he was even more arrogant and impatient than Pride. His words sounded as though they came from someone who did not understand the basics of negotiation. Yet no one present could look down on him. Even through the phone, the irritation in his voice seemed to grip their very souls.
With nothing but twisted emotion, he could kill a person. That was the pinnacle of dark magic—corrupting the world with one’s own laws and creating a personal domain. That alone was enough to understand what kind of being he was.
“Your Majesty.”
Majoan turned to the king.
“I believe it is reasonable to accept the underworld’s proposal.”
“I agree.”
The king nodded.
“Scribe. Record everything we have discussed so far on a mana-infused document.”
The scribe began inscribing the agreed terms onto magically treated paper.
Are we done?
“Yes. I apologize for taking up your time, Master.”
Then do one thing for me before you go.
“Pardon?”
Just as the negotiation seemed to be wrapping up, the Death King’s next words froze everyone in place.
Ah, it’s nothing big. I have a personal question for Majoan.
“What is it?”
Tension returned to the room. The man on the other end had dominated the atmosphere with nothing but his presence moments ago. His personality was unpredictable, like a rubber ball bouncing in random directions. When Majoan asked what he wanted to know, Kain answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
If a mage who has just started learning magic has such high mana affinity that they struggle to control their mana, what kind of training would help?
“……Hmm?”
Majoan’s expression crumbled for an instant at the completely unexpected question.
What is the hidden meaning behind this question?
Was the Death King learning magic from scratch? Even if he were, someone of his level would never have trouble with mana control. Had he taken on a new disciple? That did not make sense either. If he had a disciple, why teach ordinary magic instead of dark magic? The question made no sense.
So? Do you know or not?
Majoan’s mind raced, but the Death King’s irritated follow-up snapped him back to attention. Right—he hated wasting time.
“I do not know why you are asking, but in that situation, I would use Mana Restriction Cuffs for training.”
Raising mana affinity was currently impossible, but suppressing it was feasible. More precisely, completely blocking the user’s mana flow. Mana Restriction Cuffs, normally used on ability-user criminals or rampaging espers, could serve that purpose. If set too strongly, training would be impossible, but if adjusted to a weaker level, they might actually help with control practice.
I see. So that method exists.
Kain nodded, calculating the possibility and finding it reasonable.
As expected, fellow mages have interesting ideas. When you leave, have Pride bring a few Mana Restriction Cuffs with him. They are not easy for ordinary people to obtain, after all.
Even if one tried to acquire them, it was not impossible, but there was no need to go through the trouble when a solution was right in front of him. With that, Kain ended the call without giving Majoan a chance to respond.
“What are you doing? Did you not hear my master’s order? Prepare the Mana Restriction Cuffs at once!”
Pride shouted the command without the slightest hesitation. The king of Raymond and Majoan exchanged glances.
Until now, Majoan—the Absolute Being of the continent—had never taken orders from anyone except the king himself.
Was accepting this negotiation truly the right choice?
In that moment, the Magic Sovereign had become nothing more than an errand boy following the Death King’s commands.