The Demon King's Serious Dilemma
The fate of a nation hung in the balance, a matter of grave importance. The port town of Rob, a vital stronghold connecting the continent to the Demon Kingdom, was currently under the command of Cassandra, one of the Empire’s Three Knights. After weeks of relentless work, she finally felt a faint sense of relief as the operation drew to a close.
So in the end, we’re leaving like this… Honestly, when we first started, I wondered how we’d ever evacuate so many people, but somehow it all worked out.
Though she had suffered the disgrace of a devastating blow to their supplies from a surprise demon attack not long ago, Cassandra had managed to cling to her position by the skin of her teeth. She had leveraged the power of her family and used the death of her subordinate, Glenn, to her advantage.
Glenn, the supply officer, had been backed by Duke Menelaus—one of the Emperor’s closest confidants and a high-ranking imperial noble. Cassandra had known about his corruption for some time. She had quietly gathered evidence without ever confronting him directly, turning a blind eye to his crimes.
Right after Glenn died in the raid, when questions arose about responsibility for the attack, she had released the evidence she had collected. At the same time, she slipped in fabricated documents claiming that Glenn had been secretly colluding with the demons. In doing so, she successfully pinned nearly all the blame on the now-deceased man.
Of course, as the overall commander of the port, she couldn’t escape some degree of accountability. Even so, she had avoided any catastrophic fallout such as being forced to resign. Moreover, the entire process had allowed her family to launch an offensive against the rival Menelaus ducal house. All things considered, Cassandra had come out of the situation with a net gain.
Naturally, her own blunder had created a butterfly effect that ultimately led to the collapse of the entire racial alliance. Yet Cassandra didn’t lose much sleep over that fact. From a political standpoint, she had dodged any real damage. A war against the Demon Kingdom launched under such flimsy pretenses was no longer her concern.
What mattered now was simply finishing the cleanup as the person in charge of this town—tying up all the loose ends of a failing campaign.
“What about the eastern district?”
“Yes, ma’am. All sectors have been cleared.”
“The troops from Emmao have completed boarding as well. We only need to embark now.”
“Good. Excellent work, everyone. We set sail the moment we’re all aboard.”
“Understood, General.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After completing her final inspection, Cassandra and her subordinates boarded the ship. Behind them, the port town of Rob—which had served as the racial alliance’s forward base for several years—was engulfed in flames.
It was a place where countless supplies and soldiers had come and gone over a long period. But after half a year of successive crushing defeats, coupled with the growing rift between the Falcon Empire and the Elf Theocracy, the so-called “alliance to eradicate the evil demon race” had effectively dissolved.
As a result, Rob no longer held any strategic value. It had become a liability best destroyed and abandoned. The once-thriving port was now reduced to a blazing inferno, its former glory swallowed by fire and ash.
Having completed both the incineration of Rob and the imperial army’s retreat, Cassandra felt a complicated mix of emotions—hollowness in her heart and deep contemplation about what lay ahead.
With this, the alliance’s grand motto of driving out the forces of evil has ended in complete failure… But the real war is only just beginning.
The Demon Kingdom had been exhausted and its lands devastated by years of conflict. In its place, the new primary threat that she and the Falcon Empire would have to watch was undoubtedly the Elf Theocracy.
For now, the Falcon Empire and the Elf Theocracy had set aside their differences to cooperate on the joint goal of withdrawing the alliance forces. But everyone who mattered knew exactly what would happen once that temporary truce ended.
The two powers had already crossed a river of no return after the incident involving the Hero. At the same time, the Emperor was determined to use this moment—when the Empire’s national power was at its peak—to decisively crush the Elf Theocracy.
Of course, the current atmosphere has put things on hold for a while. They’ll probably test the waters first. But war will break out soon enough. Now that the convenient tether called the racial alliance has been severed, the Emperor has nothing left to fear…
Standing on the deck, Cassandra gazed at the burning remains of Rob while pondering the war that would not end. Yet even as she watched the place she believed she would never see again, one sentence kept echoing in her mind. The words the Demon King had spoken to her during their chance encounter refused to fade.
“You are not my enemy…”
It was a statement that cut straight to the core of Cassandra and her family’s true nature—words that felt like the seductive whisper of a devil. A faint smile unconsciously formed on her lips.
It might be useless for now. But depending on how things developed, that demonic hand might become her hidden ace, the one card capable of turning the entire situation on its head…
In the capital of the Demon Kingdom, Jerusalem, the streets were filled with countless demons pouring out of their homes and cheering at the top of their lungs.
“Long live the Demon King! Long live the Demon Kingdom!”
“Glory to Her Majesty the Demon King! Glory to the Demon Kingdom!”
“Eternal glory to the Demon Kingdom!”
After years of war—decades if one counted the truce period—the conflict with the racial alliance had finally ended in the Demon Kingdom’s victory. The demons shouted with pure, heartfelt joy.
“Wow… I never thought I’d live to see a day like this.”
“To drive out all those filthy humans and elves—truly, only Her Majesty could have done it!”
“Um… does this mean we can finally go back to our homeland? I’m from Emmao, and it’s already been over ten years since we left…”
“That’s right. The alliance army has fled completely after this war. There’s nothing left to worry about.”
“Even if they try to invade again, what do we have to fear? We have Her Majesty the Demon King, who wiped out every last one of those filthy humans and elves!”
The demons rejoiced at the prospect of returning to the homelands they had longed for, singing endless praises of their ruler. Of course, those homelands had been trampled under the alliance’s feet for anywhere from one or two years to several decades. They might no longer resemble what they once were.
Even so, that very fact served as powerful motivation for a fresh start. In the hearts of the demons burned both the joy of victory and a fierce determination to rebuild their homeland.
While the citizens celebrated their victory and the soldiers shared in their joy, the one at the center of all this praise—the great monarch who had led the Demon Kingdom to triumph—was currently lost in such deep contemplation that worry was clearly etched across her face.
“Mmm…”
Dressed in casual clothes, the Demon King sat on the edge of her bed with a serious expression. Watching her like this, Belzebeuty asked with a hint of concern,
“Your Majesty, is something troubling you?”
Her liege was radiating an unmistakably grave atmosphere. Belzebeuty assumed it must be related to postwar reconstruction or matters concerning the former alliance. She began to worry about what exactly could be weighing so heavily on the Demon King’s mind.
If Her Majesty is pondering this deeply… could there be some enormous threat looming?
Steel herself, Belzebeuty waited. The Demon King spoke in a calm, measured voice.
“Indeed… I have a personal dilemma, Belzebeuty. It may seem trivial to others… but for Us, it is a matter of utmost importance.”
“Trivial? Please do not say such things. No matter what troubles Your Majesty, every single one of them is precious and vital to this servant. Please allow me to offer whatever meager assistance I can.”
Belzebeuty spoke with profound respect. The Demon King hesitated for a moment, then looked directly at her and said,
“…Then… then listen carefully and do not laugh. It truly is an utterly insignificant matter, but…”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please speak.”
Seeing Belzebeuty’s voice filled with unwavering loyalty, the Demon King’s expression stiffened slightly. She turned to the wisest person she knew—her nation’s prime minister—and finally voiced the question that had been tormenting her.
And the content of that fateful question was…
“Belzebeuty… would you happen to know… how We should go about having a date?”
“…Pardon?”
It was an extraordinarily ordinary question, far removed from anything Belzebeuty had imagined—yet one that could also be considered gravely important when it came to matters of marriage. Upon hearing this completely unexpected inquiry, Belzebeuty—who, strictly speaking, was still as romantically inexperienced as her sovereign—could only stare back with a blank, dumbfounded expression.