The Demon King's Coronation

Balpador arrived at the Demon King Castle leading his freshly assembled army of 100,000, only to be greeted by the castle gates flung wide open like a blooming flower.

"Hm? This is……."

The letter he'd dismissed as Baldr's mockery turned out to be a genuine writ of appointment for Demon King—contrary to Balpador's expectations.

Still mounted on his demonic warhorse, he urged it forward into the castle with a cautious clop-clop-clop, refusing to let his guard down completely.

And so on…….

Placards of every kind dangled amid throngs of rattling skeletons.

What's more, demon soldiers dressed in tailcoats stood in perfect ranks along both sides, firing salutes in time with Balpador's approach.

Calm down……! Calm down. Has Baldr truly prepared all this for me?!

As he read the placards one by one, Balpador's chest swelled with growing pride.

At the very least, the Baldr he knew wasn't some soft demon who'd go to these lengths just for a prank.

He was the sort who used not a single brick or speck of dust in the Demon King Castle for anything but the Demon King himself.

Such a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man would never indulge in this extravagance for someone who wasn't even ascending to the throne.

"Lord Balpador! I-is this a real coronation?!"

"Is Baldr seriously trying to crown our legion commander as Demon King?"

His subordinates trailing behind buzzed with awe, their filthy jaws scraping the ground at the splendor beyond their wildest dreams.

"Looks like that bastard Baldr's finally come to his senses."

Balpador dismounted with his chest puffed high.

Beyond this door lay the grand hall.

The site of the coronation ceremony he'd longed for so desperately.

Rumble rumble rumble.

Bum-bah-bum. Bum-bah….

As the massive doors to the grand hall swung open, fanfare blared, and at the far end of the long red carpet stood Baldr, holding the Demon King's crown.

Baldr, who had been watching Balpador enter with eyes burning like coals, finally spoke.

"Welcome, Your Majesty Demon King Balpador! Come forth and don the crown of the Demon King to ascend the throne!"

Balpador tensed briefly at the sight of Baldr, but soon grinned greedily at the reality of his own ascension.

Me! At last! Taking my place as Demon King!

During the past 500 years, he'd lived in dread of the true Demon King awakening—or fretted whenever Baldr restricted access to the castle. Never had he dreamed he'd actually reach the throne.

It felt like a dream.

Baldr, resplendent in ornate robes, waiting to crown him—this was proof he recognized Balpador as the true Demon King.

Even that loyal Baldr would finally become his subordinate.

Baldr had always been enviably devoted at the Demon King's side, so Balpador had no doubt he'd bow his head low once he took the throne.

"Baldr. Second Legion Commander. I have come."

Balpador addressed him in a dignified tone, as if he'd never once gnashed his teeth at the man.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Congratulations."

"Ahem!"

As Baldr dipped his head in deference, Balpador's lingering suspicions crumbled like a burst dam.

"What must I do now?"

"Please clasp your hands and receive the Demon King's crown with a reverent heart."

"Hm!"

Balpador stood before Baldr and clasped his hands.

"Kneel on one knee and bow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠your head."

"Must I kneel?"

"It is tradition."

"……Very well, then."

A flicker of wariness stirred in Balpador, but he knelt anyway.

In truth, he knew nothing of coronation protocols.

Guess that's how it is.

That was all it took to dismiss it.

Baldr clenched his jaw against the overwhelming urge to cleave Balpador's neck clean off as he knelt there waiting.

This is for my Demon King. Not for this scum Balpador.

Only after steeling himself repeatedly could he lower the crown onto Balpador's head.

The Demon King's crown resized itself to fit its new master.

Shhh. Click.

As Balpador rose triumphantly, Baldr bellowed:

"I hereby declare that His Majesty Balpador I is now the master of the Demon Realm!"

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

"Raaaaaaaagh!"

"Kek kek! Keruk!"

"Keh-he-he-hek!"

The demon soldiers from both sides erupted in cheers at Baldr's proclamation.

Turning to his thrilled minions, Balpador raised a fist and roared in emotion:

"I am the master of the Demon Realm! The Demon King!"

His telepathic shout, infused with mana, echoed even to the troops massed beyond the castle.

"Ooxeo! Ooxeo!"

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

For the first time in ages, peace and joy overflowed the Demon Realm.

Amid the universal cheers, Baldr gestured to the throne.

"Your Majesty, please ascend the throne."

"Yes! Of course."

The Demon King's throne loomed atop high steps, exuding a lavish yet ominous aura as it awaited him.

Step by step.

Balpador ascended slowly, savoring each moment, and sat.

Clank!

"Hm?!"

Clang! Clank!

The moment he settled, manacles sprang from the throne, binding his wrists and ankles.

Infused with such potent mana, they withstood even Balpador's monstrous strength that could snap orichalcum chains like twigs.

"Wh-what is the meaning of this……."

"This too is part of the coronation tradition. Maintain your dignity and show your majesty to the masses."

"I-is that so? This is protocol as well……."

The mention of tradition eased Balpador's panic.

After all, Baldr was the only one here who knew such rites—and in his position, he had no choice but to accept the oddity.

"Indeed. It proclaims that the exalted Demon King's throne cannot be forsaken lightly."

"Indeed! I see! Truly so!"

The plausible explanation made it seem all the more legitimate.

Balpador even came to think the thick manacles lent him an air of greater dignity.

It's to keep you pinned while the Corrupted Demonic World Tree drains your mana, you fool. Heh heh heh.

Baldr smirked inwardly at Balpador's beaming grin.

The Corrupted Demonic World Tree, having sprouted its bud, immediately latched onto Balpador and began siphoning his mana.

I glanced down at it briefly before leaving the pantry and standing at the door.

Shing. Slash…….

I sealed the pantry entrance so no one could enter or detect it.

In a day, the tree would undergo explosive growth.

Then I'd return, dispose of the drained scarecrow Demon King Balpador, and wrap up the quest like cold porridge.

Time to grab everything worth taking from the Demon Realm one last time.

Once this quest was done and the tree made the realm self-sustaining, I'd never return.

The Terra Genesis Control Tower only concerned itself with my parents' survival anyway.

Its points probably wouldn't suffice to rewind every event on Earth.

That was my first thought upon logging in and seeing my World Tree points slashed.

To reverse the Akashic Records and save everyone, I'll need far more points.

So my next login would be strictly for rescuing my parents—nothing more, handled with utmost caution.

I'd abandon the Control Tower without a second thought; it wasn't worth the risk anymore.

But.

I'd hidden skills in the Demon Realm from past regressions, not just Earth.

Earth's skills I could reacquire upon return, but I had no plans to come back here—so now was the time.

One problem: Most Demon Realm skills were high-level, beyond my current reach.

In prior loops, I'd claimed the throne at level 500-800, so the skills matched that.

At my current level—barely 180 after grinding fake Demon Kings, beasts, and the World ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tree on Earth—most were inaccessible.

Come to think of it, the ones using dark energy all transcend space-time.

The skill repository skipping loops via Death Terraforming, the Control Tower accessing the Akashic Records—all wielded space-time-defying power.

Even tallying points from the Corrupted Demonic World Tree I'd planted in past loops proved it.

Dark energy corrupted minds, crumbled realms, and drove worlds to ruin—meaning it held equally immense power.

And it dominates even space-time itself.

Lost in such thoughts as I slipped through the cheering crowds around the Demon King Castle—

Someone called out.

"Hey? Where you headed?"

"?!"

The new Demon King had just ascended.

Which meant every demon in the realm was lost in boundless loyalty to him, minds blank with devotion.

That was their nature, born and built that way.

Yet.

For someone to spot me—polymorphed and invisible amid the frenzy—was startling beyond words.

I turned slowly, face etched with wariness.

In the heart of the Demon Realm.

Under its eternally dim sky, where day and night blurred, fireworks burst in sequence.

Boom! Boom-boom! Bwoom!

Waaaaaaaaah!

As every surrounding demon gazed joyfully at the salutes, one succubus stared straight at me with a smile.

A stranger, face unknown from any past loop on Earth or here.

She radiated mana over allure—a powerhouse by succubus standards.

I masked my instinctive intimidation and replied.

"The Mirror Tower."

Her large, enchanting eyes—made to mesmerize men—widened and blinked a few times.

"Why ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there all of a sudden? Everyone's heading to the celebration after the coronation."

"……Ah, I."

I rolled my eyes, scrambling for an excuse.

"Figured I'd get stronger, catch the new Demon King's eye."

"Aha, gotcha. Fair enough."

The succubus nodded her cute horned head, then flashed me a bright smile.

"In that case, mind if I tag along? I wanna get stronger too!"

"What?"

Stunned, I froze—but she hooked her arm through mine like it was nothing.

"Let's go together. I wanna impress the new Demon King too."

Was it my imagination?

Her seductive eyes locked onto mine with unusual intensity as she said "new Demon King."