Audience with the Wise King
"Captain Plaxen of the Plaxen was a Blader-grade magic cavalryman... The two first-class navigators were Expert-grade, and there were five more low-grade magic cavalrymen besides them. Excluding the Expert-grade one disguised as a passenger, they were all responsible for operating the ship Plaxen, shuttling between Enaxen and our Carun for the past five years."
"Hm..."
A calm voice echoed through King Emerd von Karon's office in the palace, drawing a low groan from Carun's king. He stroked his snow-white beard and gazed down at the boy kneeling on one knee before him.
Black hair rare even on the mainland, let alone in Carun. Yet his skin was as pale as fresh snow, with no trace of Eastern blood.
"Tiny, was it? Young hero with the unusual name—you know how many lives must be sacrificed for a single Blader-grade magic cavalryman to be born?"
"...I have a rough idea, Your Majesty."
"Good. Then let me tell you plainly. Exceptions aside, at least a few hundred. Hundreds if living sacrifices, thousands if corpses offered to the demons. Just for that one bastard."
Tiny bit his lip hard, watching the old king's wrinkled hands tremble as he clenched them into fists.
In truth, he knew it all too well. He'd only played it humble because there was no need to push.
'Humanity's vermin...'
The exceptions the king mentioned were higher-realm mana users or mages—three or more Superior-grade mana users or 5th-circle mages offered alive to demons, or ten or more of lower grades. The demons demon worshippers served were high demons capable of piercing the dimensional walls between the demon realm and the middle world to project power—typically classified alongside legion commanders or the Seven Deadly Sins as the strongest, on par with the Demon King, or able to transmit power from beyond the walls.
Even accounting for the 'cost' of breaching dimensions, the power demon worshippers received was only about ten percent of what their sacrifices yielded. Humanity's sages had concluded that the more demon worshippers proliferated, the stronger the legion commanders and Demon King grew.
'Or a demon equivalent to legion-commander grade could even be reborn as a new one.'
Either way, it was the worst outcome.
"...Demon worshippers must be killed on sight."
Tiny's grim tone drew a nod from the king.
"Indeed. Utterly incomprehensible madmen. For the last thirty years or so, we've barely caught any, so there was even hopeful talk of eradicating them at last."
The king gave a wry smile tinged with regret, then fixed Tiny with a heavy gaze once more.
"Until that noble in the Empire was exposed as a black mage recently... and until those on the Plaxen met their end at your hands."
That was why a boy of unverified origins now sat face-to-face with a nation's king.
—The world was deceived, yet how did you know?
The old king's eyes asked as much. Tiny answered plainly.
"The stench of rot was overwhelming. I'm more surprised everyone around me missed it."
"You just... knew?"
"...My spirit is special."
"Ho?"
The king's eyes gleamed with fresh interest—he already knew Tiny was a spirit user.
"Spirits are said to have unique abilities each. Mine can detect them."
More precisely, it sniffed out their souls' scent, but no need for that detail. The others around them were already nodding.
"...I see. Then, might I see this spirit in the flesh?"
"Your Majesty!?"
The chamberlain Roy Man, standing to one side, stepped forward with a shout. The two guard knights behind the king flinched.
But.
"Don't you know about spirit users, Roy Man? It's common knowledge that only the purely untainted can bond with spirits."
"...They could be purely evil, Your Majesty. Just as ignorant children can be crueler to insects or small animals."
Tiny eyed Roy Man with newfound respect.
'He's right.'
It was a perfectly reasonable thought. Humans changed with experience and environment; a kind child growing into a villain was hardly rare.
Yet on this continent, spirit users enjoyed an oddly pristine reputation.
'Spirit users are good people'—that absurd formula was taken as gospel.
'Probably the elves' doing.'
The common notion stemmed from most elves' adherence to natural order and pursuit of peace—a notion that would shatter in a decade at the hands of a villainous spirit user named Raphtan.
But for now.
"Have you ever seen or heard of such a purely evil spirit user, Roy Man?"
The king phrased it that way because the perception was so entrenched—even for a monarch.
As Roy Man fell silent, the king smiled faintly and continued.
"I know you worry for this old body of mine. Especially after what happened to Gail recently—you fear another shock might overburden me."
Roy Man flinched and bowed his head, clearly guilty of clinging to that flawed common sense himself.
"I've never seen a non-elf spirit user before. But I want to witness the true nature of this young hero's power."
The king turned back to Tiny.
"Hm..."
It felt a touch suspicious, but exploiting this flawed perception seemed wise for now.
'Speaking of which... I need to deal with Raphtan before that 'incident' of his.'
One more urgent task added to the list. Tiny bowed his head at once.
"If Your Majesty wishes, gladly..."
With that, Wolrang's massive spirit form materialized.
"Grrr. Snuff."
Indifferent as if to say 'Why'd you call?', but the onlookers' reactions exploded.
"Oh!"
"That's... a spirit."
The king gasped in awe. Even Roy Man, who'd opposed the summoning, couldn't tear his eyes from the house-sized spirit wolf.
"Magnificent! Truly magnificent! A spirit that must have ruled vast forests! Splendid, splendid... Incredible, young hero!"
The king clapped and laughed heartily. Tiny had worried about the faint three circles pulsing weakly in the old man's chest, signaling ebbing life—but no harm seemed done.
Pffft.
Wolrang snorted loudly at the praise, head held high. It even glanced down at Tiny smugly.
'See? This is what I am!'
The cheeky expression was infuriating.
'Heh...'
Amused despite himself, Tiny promptly unsummoned it.
Swoosh.
The spirit vanished in an instant.
—Yelp! Yelp!!
Ignoring Wolrang's protests from the soul realm, Tiny turned back to the king.
"Does this prove it?"
"Hahaha, yes. Forgive the test. But seeing the spirit with my own eyes makes it real."
Tiny silently renewed his vow to handle Raphtan swiftly.
Unaware of his thoughts, the king nodded contentedly.
"Doubts cleared, now to wrap up this incident. Stay and hear the rest, if you would."
"Meeting Your Majesty here is honor enough."
The king smiled at Tiny’s words, then turned a grave gaze toward the reporting minister.
"Number of victims identified so far?"
Demon worshippers needed regular sacrifices not just to gain power, but to maintain it. Not as many as the initial contract, but inevitable victims kept piling up.
And the king's hunch was spot on.
"Investigating those connected to them, over a hundred people unaccounted for in the last five years alone. They claimed some went to Enaxen or the mainland interior—no way to verify. Enaxen reports more supposedly came here, but actual entries were minimal."
"...All fodder for sacrifices. As king, I hang my head in shame..."
The king sighed, covering his face. The ministers pressed on urgently.
"It's not Your Majesty's fault! Even averaging both sides, it's barely one a week, and many foreigners—tracking them was..."
"No excuses, Roy Man. All of it is my failing."
Roy Man shuddered and prostrated himself.
"The fault lies with us, Your Majesty’s ministers. Punish us, Your Majesty!"
'...Impressive.'
The king’s words and the ministers’ response explained why this old ruler was called Carun’s Wise King.
And thus.
"Tiny Morse, young but already knight-qualified. You've eased my shame somewhat. How can I express my gratitude?"
The reward for Tiny would be generous.
'Morse' tugged at him a bit, but the momentum was there. No better chance to enter the royal fold.
"...I left the Empire, steeped in my house's grudge, seeking roots far away. If permitted, I'd pledge as Carun's vassal."
Deceiving this good man pricked his conscience anew.
'This lie, I'll repay by sweeping away Carun's calamity.'
Tiny bowed low once more. A faint smile graced the old king's face.
"I thought as much. My fortune in men brings talents like you to my door. How could I refuse? Roy Man, bring what I've prepared."
At the king's command, Roy Man bowed and signaled the attendants.
Moments later, the office door opened. An attendant entered slowly, bearing a silk cloth with a sword and silver badge, kneeling before the king.
The king reached for the sword, then paused at Tiny kneeling fully, and picked up the badge instead.
"I abhor empty rituals, so we'll skip the untimely sword ceremony."
"Your Majesty?"
Roy Man looked puzzled, but the king silenced his loyal minister with a gesture.
And.
"You've proven your knightly worth. In Carun's royal name, I dub you Sir Tiny von Morse."
With that simple declaration, he offered the silver badge.
'Huh? This easy...?'
Tiny had braced for shoulder-taps with the sword, oaths of loyalty to the crown and chivalry—conscience-testing vows. This was a relief.
"...My thanks, Your Majesty."
His first knighthood in this life. Tainted by preparation for calamity, yet a strange emotion welled up.
'Sis, we're starting over. This time, for sure...'
As Tiny savored the badge's feel, reaffirming his resolve, the watching king smiled and gestured to the others.
"Leave us. I wish private words with this young hero."
An unexpected turn for Tiny too. Reactions were predictably intense.
"Your Majesty!?"
"Alone with an outsider...!"
"Withdraw your command!"
But the old king's resolve was ironclad.
"Dare you call the knight I myself dubbed an outsider?!"
The sharp rebuke silenced Roy Man and the guards. They withdrew with anxious faces as the door shut.
The king smiled softly at Tiny's baffled expression.
And.
"Quarter-elf was a lie, wasn't it? 'Young' hero—you seem free of malice, so tell me your true purpose here."