Throne (5)
I had no idea how many days had passed since I sat on the throne. There was no distinction between day and night here. The sky was always black, and the purple flames burned with the same intensity. Time itself felt like it had melted away.
Sahadin gave his report every morning... or whatever we were calling that time of day. And today was no different.
"Your Majesty, here is today's report."
"Yeah."
"There have been changes in the monster distribution on the eastern front. The monster horde near Istius is moving northeast, likely influenced by Your Majesty's return."
"Got it."
"Additionally, we've detected signs of heightened alert status in the human frontline cities. It's presumed they've discovered the traces of destruction in Istius."
"...Yeah."
"A response is needed."
"For what."
"Dispatch additional spies to monitor their movements, or preemptively redeploy our forces—"
"Handle it yourself."
Sahadin lifted his head. It took a moment before he lowered it again, and that gap felt longer than usual.
"Your Majesty's approval is required."
"I already approved it. Handle it yourself."
"...As you command."
As the door closed, the throne room fell silent once more. I leaned back and closed my eyes. What was the point of sitting here? Listening to reports, giving approvals, occasionally patrolling the castle. If that was the Demon King's job, it was surprisingly straightforward. The problem was how boring it was.
"...Hah."
I rose from the throne and stepped into the corridor. No particular reason—just sick of sitting. Every demon soldier I passed reacted the same way.
"Your Majesty!"
They dropped to their knees, bowed their heads, fixed their eyes on the floor. Around the next corner, the same.
"Your Majesty...!"
And the next.
"Your Majesty!"
Annoying. I didn't say it out loud. Couldn't tell you why I held back. Maybe it was just too much hassle even to complain.
From atop the walls, the black plain stretched endlessly. I stared blankly at the view. Footsteps approached from behind before long. Probably Sahadin. This NPC had a habit of following me wherever I went.
"Your Majesty, the wind is cold."
"I'm fine."
"I'll fetch an overcoat."
"I said no need."
"...Understood."
This never happened in Istius. With Adelaide around, every day felt... alive, I guess. Even without words, the atmosphere was good. Being in the same space felt a little different each day. Here, nothing like that.
Yes, Your Majesty. As you command. Understood.
Repeat. Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty...
Pure NPC reactions. Reciting scripted lines.
"Sahadin."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Was it always like this here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone prostrating when they see me, chanting 'Your Majesty'."
"The Demon King reigns over the Land of Darkness. Reverence is only natural."
"They all react the exact same way."
"...Is that a complaint?"
"Not a complaint so much as... boring."
"You find it boring."
"Yeah. No fun."
"If I knew what reaction Your Majesty desires, I could educate the demons—"
"That's not what I mean."
"...I see."
"Forced reactions mean nothing. It's not real if it's just on command."
"..."
"Forget it. I'm expecting too much from fakes."
Sahadin's shoulders twitched once. He looked like he wanted to ask more, but he didn't.
"Your Majesty, Gartia requests an audience."
"What does it want."
"It wishes to speak directly."
"...Let it in."
The door opened, and Gartia's massive form lumbered inside. Its multiple eyes fixed on me. The first time, it was honestly gross, but after a few days, I was getting used to it.
"Your Majesty. The executives. Offer. Counsel."
"Executives? Who besides you."
"Low-rank. Commanders. Twelve of them. Awaiting."
"Twelve? What's the rush."
"Humans. Territory. Invasion. Proposed."
"...Invasion?"
"Your Majesty's. Return. Has rallied. All demons."
"Rallied for what."
"Advance. Westward. Conquer. Human frontline cities."
Sahadin stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, the low-rank commanders' proposal is premature. With our current forces—"
"Not. Premature. With Your Majesty's. Mana."
"Gartia. Are you pressuring His Majesty."
"Not pressure. Counsel."
Annoying.
"Gartia."
"Yes. Your Majesty."
"You're a hassle. Later."
"..."
"Tell the twelve to scram. No interest in invasion right now."
"Your Majesty... The demons'. Morale."
"Morale? They've waited this long; a few more days won't kill them."
"...Incomprehensible."
"Don't need to comprehend. I'm the Demon King."
A few of Gartia's eyes blinked. No reverence in its readable emotions, but whatever. I hadn't sat here expecting grandeur anyway.
"Gartia."
"...Yes. Your Majesty."
"Cheeky. Staring straight at me while chanting 'Your Majesty'."
"Apologies."
"Yeah, that height's perfect."
"Noted."
I waved it off, and Gartia withdrew immediately. As the door closed, Sahadin spoke cautiously.
"Gartia's attitude is concerning. It has the low-rank commanders behind it."
"I know."
"If left unchecked, its influence could grow."
"So?"
"Preemptive restraint would be wise."
"How."
"Your Majesty need only meet a few low-rank commanders directly. If they pledge loyalty bypassing Gartia—"
"Enough."
"Your Majesty."
"I said enough. That's a hassle."
"However—"
"Sahadin. You think I came here to play demon politics?"
"...Then why did you come."
Good question. No ready answer.
Nowhere else to go? Pushed into it? Left Adelaide behind because there was no other choice?
All true, all wrong.
"...Just because."
"Just because."
"Yeah. Just because."
"..."
Sahadin asked no more. That restraint was its own form of loyalty, I suppose. Suddenly, anger flared. No real reason. Just that it was backing off as expected. No one here pushed me. Gartia was a bit bold but still said noted and retreated. Sahadin was obedient from the start. The rest just prostrated.
Adelaide wouldn't have backed down. She never did cleanly. Something always lingered in her eyes—doubt, anger, or some nameless emotion.
...Stop thinking. Why does it always circle back to Adelaide.
I looked up at the ceiling. Impossibly high. Boring.
"Sahadin."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Don't you think I'm acting weird lately?"
"What do you mean."
"Mood swings. Irritated one moment, apathetic the next. Up and down."
"Your Majesty... May I speak freely."
"Go ahead."
"Those who sit upon the throne have their emotions amplified by the power of darkness."
"...What?"
"The dark mana interferes with the mind. Anger intensifies, lethargy deepens. Emotional amplitude widens."
"Sounds like game mechanics."
"It is real, Your Majesty."
"Real?"
"The previous Demon King... succumbed to madness in his final days."
"Madness."
"When emotions reach extremes, reason is lost. That is the throne's price."
"Bullshit. Just sitting there?"
"Using the throne's power accumulates the effect. Every time you wield the shadows."
I glanced at my hand unthinkingly. The shadow at my feet rippled faintly.
"Why didn't you say sooner?"
"...I planned to inform you after you'd adapted to the throne."
"Should've said immediately, adaptation or not."
"My apologies."
"Tch... So what's the fix."
"No clear remedy. Awareness of emotional shifts and avoiding extremes is best."
"How do I tell if anger's real or from these shadows."
"...That's the hardest part."
"Useless."
"...My apologies."
"No, thanks for telling me. Just... a hassle."
Was my fixation on Adelaide only because of this? ...No. That's purely mine.
Emotions...? What emotions even—
Thoughts wouldn't stop, fueling irritation. Shadow's fault? Or just me?
"Sahadin."
"Yes."
"Tired. Out."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Shall I—"
"No guards."
"...Understood. Rest well."
The door closed, leaving me alone again. I shut my eyes quietly. Before long, consciousness sank.
I dreamed. An unfamiliar place. Someone stood before me. Blue hair to her shoulders, sharp eyes. A girl—or woman—gripping a dagger in her right hand. Adelaide.
No visible wounds on her in the dream, which brought unconscious relief. The main difference from memory: her sunken eyes staring at me.
"Why'd you let me live."
"...Dunno."
"Dunno?"
"Really don't. The shadows did it themselves."
"The shadows acted on their own. Your shadows."
"Yeah."
"Then—"
Why did your shadows save me?
I couldn't voice an answer. Even in the dream, my tongue felt heavy.
Adelaide stepped closer.
"You asked me too. If I was really an NPC."
"...Yeah, I did."
"Why ask."
"To... check."
"Check what."
"If you were human or not."
"And the answer?"
"You said you were an NPC."
Adelaide stepped closer again. Now within arm's reach.
"Are you human, then?"
"Yeah, I am."
"Really?"
"Really. This is a game world."
"If it's a game, why couldn't you kill me? I'm just an NPC, like you said."
Speechless. Dream-Adelaide didn't press. Just staring, yet pressure built.
"Three days. Hundreds of chances."
"...Shut up."
"Shadows stopped at my throat. You stopped them. You know it best."
"Wasn't me. The shadows—"
"Same thing. Your shadows—"
Ailin.
Saying my name, her hand touched my cheek.
*
My eyes snapped open. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Blankets half-kicked off, pillow on the floor. The room was dark. Only faint purple flames on the walls provided light.
"...Just a dream."
Of course it was. Adelaide couldn't be here.