The Demon King's Scorn
Before the absolute sovereign of the demon race and the symbol of terror stood countless demons. They filled the main avenue until it could hold no more, every last one of them staring in this direction with fierce, hostile glares. As the leader of the diplomatic mission from the Elf Theocracy, Octavia kept her silence, quietly suppressing the unease that kept creeping over her.
Every last one of them is looking at us with eyes full of wariness or hatred. It was the case the entire way here, but this place seems especially severe.
Jerusalem, the capital of the Demon Kingdom and the very heart of its realm. To set foot here as envoys from the hostile Elf Theocracy, Octavia and her party had been forced to surrender every weapon they carried. Yet the demons continued to watch them with unrelenting surveillance and vigilance, radiating pure hatred. Their eyes held the look one might give terrorists who had come to commit some outrage at any moment, paired with the unmistakable intent to strike the instant any such sign appeared.
Watching the demons behave this way, Octavia realized the situation would prove far more difficult than she had anticipated. A deeper tension and worry took hold of her.
But… we must succeed no matter what. If we fail here, the Elf Theocracy will be utterly finished. To protect the Canna Forest and the World Tree Jupiter and to complete our revenge, I will endure any humiliation.
The irony that their final hope lay with the very demons they had longed to destroy until recently was not lost on her. Still, she and the other elves had already accepted that they had no other choice. Once more, she steeled her resolve to fulfill the mission at any cost.
A short while later, the gates of the Demon King's Castle finally came into view. Octavia slowly descended from the carriage that had stopped before them.
And then…
“Lady Octavia… is it you?”
A woman’s voice reached her ears the moment she stepped down. Octavia turned toward the sound, a trace of caution in her gaze.
“!...”
What entered her sight was a demon. The instant she saw her, Octavia felt an involuntary flicker of surprise.
The demon standing before her was rather small in stature. She possessed skin as white as flawless jade, tiny horns upon her forehead, eyes the color of rubies, and hair that glittered like platinum. She radiated a nobility and purity that surpassed any elf Octavia had ever encountered.
This person… is a demon? If not for the horns on her forehead, she would look exactly like an angel.
Having been momentarily entranced by the demon’s noble appearance, Octavia quickly collected herself and answered in a calm voice.
“Yes, that is correct. I am Octavia, the representative of the Theocracy who has come here on this occasion.”
“I see. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Elisa. I am one of His Majesty the Demon King’s royal guards. On His Majesty’s orders, I have come to welcome you, Lady Octavia.”
Despite the sharp, hostile stares still pricking at them from every side, Elisa spoke with polished courtesy. Octavia felt a small wave of relief that they had not been turned away at the door by someone like this after traveling so far, and she offered a careful bow.
“Thank you for receiving us so graciously, Lady Elisa. Though our time together may be brief, I look forward to your guidance.”
“Very well. Whether that time will be short or long, however, remains to be seen.”
“…”
Elisa’s expression remained perfectly polite, yet her tone was utterly indifferent as she delivered the cutting remark. Octavia understood that while basic etiquette was being observed, the woman before her still regarded her with clear distaste. For some reason, the realization brought a faint ache to her chest… or more precisely, it felt as though she had been stabbed by a blade from an entirely unexpected direction.
Thus, Octavia and the rest of the envoy began to follow Elisa with careful steps. The place they reached shortly afterward was a vast audience chamber located in the deepest part of the Demon King's Castle—the so-called throne room.
Inside, dozens of demons stood arrayed along both sides of the central aisle, all of them staring in their direction. At the far end of that path, before a magnificent throne, a warrior clad in black armor and bearing a greatsword stood at attention. And upon that throne sat the one they had come to see—the ruler of the Demon Kingdom and the strongest demon alive, the Demon King. She was fully encased in purple armor, gazing toward them.
So that is the absolute sovereign of the demon race and the symbol of terror, the Demon King… The oppressive aura alone is on another level.
The Demon King’s golden eyes burned like molten metal between the slits of her helmet. The moment Octavia realized those eyes were fixed upon her, she felt as if an invisible blade were sliding across the back of her neck. Cold sweat broke out in her clenched fists.
“Your Majesty, they have arrived.”
“....”
The Demon King answered Elisa’s polite bow with a light flick of her hand. Watching the exchange, Octavia felt a strange pang of pity, as though she were seeing an angel bowing before the lord of demons. Nevertheless, she offered her own respects to the Demon King seated before her.
“It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty the Demon King. I am Octavia, envoy of the Elf Theocracy. To stand before you like this is truly… Gaaahhhhhk!!!!”
Sudden, overwhelming agony tore through her. The pain was like having her heart wrung out while still beating. A wretched scream tore from Octavia’s throat.
Am… I dying? …Is this… the end?
The terror of death swelled within the horrific pain until it seemed unbearable. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the agony enveloping her vanished.
“Huuuuurgh! …Huk… Huk… Huk…”
Octavia gasped harshly, feeling as though she had barely clawed her life back from the brink of death. The ruler of the demons, the Demon King seated before her, watched in silence. Then she spoke in a deep, masculine voice thick with rage.
“Who gave you permission to open your mouth? We ask the questions. All you are permitted to do is answer them. Keep that firmly in mind, Elf.”
“Y-Yes! I understand perfectly, Your Majesty the Demon King.”
The Demon King’s words carried both overwhelming charisma and raw terror. Octavia answered at once. In normal circumstances, such an attitude would constitute an unmistakable diplomatic breach, even toward an enemy nation. Yet it was their side that stood in desperate need, and the one before them was the Demon King—the sovereign of the demons, who belonged to neither humans, elves, nor beastkin. Expecting ordinary diplomatic norms from such a being would itself be the height of foolishness.
Already driven into a corner and deprived even of the protection of custom, Octavia could only wait in heavy tension for whatever question the Demon King might pose.
“Speak. Why have you wretches once again set your filthy feet upon this land?”
The Demon King’s question was laced with open hostility, essentially ordering them to state their business. Octavia maintained the most courteous bearing she could manage. She presented both the letter she had brought and the glass bottle containing the black flames, then spoke.
“We have come at the command of His Holiness the Pope… to deliver these to Your Majesty the Demon King.”
“…”
At her gesture, the Demon King gave a slight motion of her chin. Elisa, who had been observing, accepted the items from Octavia’s hands, unfolded the letter, and began to read its contents aloud.
By the command of His Holiness the Pope, we beseech Your Majesty to reveal the true nature of the black flames now consuming the sacred forests of the Elf Theocracy, along with any means to extinguish them.
In return, the Elf Theocracy vows to accept the Demon Kingdom’s demands to the greatest extent possible.
“That is all, Your Majesty.”
“…”
“…”
The moment Elisa’s voice fell silent after reading the letter to its conclusion, a heavy stillness settled over the throne room. Caught in intense tension, Octavia held her breath and watched the Demon King, waiting to see what decision she would render.
Then, after a brief pause…
“…How splendid.”
“…”
The Demon King spoke softly. Yet even though the words could have sounded positive, Octavia instinctively understood that not even the smallest shred of goodwill lay within them.
“Truly splendid beyond measure. The utterly filthy brazenness of you elf scum… it is enough to draw nothing but admiration.”
“!!!”
Along with those words, the Demon King released a thick wave of black magical power laced with killing intent. The horrifying aura was like being cast naked into the heart of a freezing blizzard. Octavia’s body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Turning that chilling gaze upon her, the Demon King continued in a voice cold enough to freeze blood.
“Now then, struggle with that brazen mouth of yours. Struggle in such a way that We might be moved to spare your lives and send you back.”