Marbas stroked his beard and spoke.
"Can he attend immediately?"
"Yes. Thorkel is waiting outside the ballroom. Whenever you call……!"
"I grant it. However, if the witness does not appear within five minutes, the hearing will be closed. And I will declare at my discretion that Dantalion has won."
Paimon bowed her head in gratitude. She hurried out of the ballroom exit to find her personal agent, who would be waiting somewhere. The Demon Lords kept whispering among themselves as they watched her retreating figure. The hearing came to a temporary halt.
A chill settled over my heart.
'What an idiot.'
Paimon had made the worst possible choice. Think about it. Thorkel had abandoned even a merchant's duty to pass information to Paimon. In other words, Thorkel was Paimon's secret operative.
If the informant, previously referred to by the vague title of "Kunkuska Trading Company executive," is specifically identified as "Thorkel," then from that moment on, the one who violated the merchant's duty would no longer be the Kunkuska Trading Company as a whole, but Thorkel as an individual. Mentioning his name right now would be tantamount to ruthlessly ending Thorkel's life as a merchant.
She was a woman who showed great concern for the survival of the human race, yet couldn't properly look after even a single Demonkin who would serve as her ally — that was the Rank 9 Paimon.
There had been a similar event in Dungeon Attack. When the Hero fell into danger, Paimon led an army to the rescue, deliberately smashing apart traps that other Demon Lords had carefully laid, and helped the Hero's party escape. From the player's perspective, it was a scene to cheer about — "As expected of Paimon! The greatest pure-hearted woman of all time!" But…
My thoughts were different.
From the Demonkin's perspective, the Hero was a walking nightmare far worse than the Black Death. Seventy-two Demon Lords dying at the hands of a single human — if that wasn't a catastrophically unfunny black joke, what was?
From the point when the protagonist's party broke through the Rank 30 range, the game's difficulty spiked sharply. According to the lore, this was because the Demonkin finally sensed the crisis and launched a full-scale invasion of the Human Realm. But with Paimon, ranked all the way up at 9, interfering alongside several other Demon Lords, the Demonkin — despite being far more powerful than humanity — had their forces scattered and fragmented, ultimately getting picked apart one by one by the Human-Demi-human Alliance.
In the end, the Demonkin lost their foothold on the surface and were forced to retreat entirely to the Demon Realm. With the unifying center of the Demon Lords gone, they lost all hope of integration and peace, trapped forever on the wheel of survival of the fittest — a battlefield where the strong took everything, and any trace of consideration for others had long since vanished.
From a player's perspective, pure-hearted or whatever.
'A traitor. No — worse than that, a race-seller.'
To borrow the words of Rank 8 Demon Lord Barbatos, Paimon was worse than a harlot.
If she'd had a legitimate reason and deliberately betrayed the Demon Lords' army, like Ivar of the Kunkuska Trading Company, that would be a different matter. But Paimon just caused chaos because she found humans entertaining and liked the Hero. That's why I've always hated the character called Paimon.
I stood there waiting for Paimon to return. Honestly, I wanted nothing more than to go back to Lapis Lazuli and catch my breath, but with Marbas standing right beside me as the moderator, eyes shut tight and putting on his dignified air, it felt awkward to act on my own.
'Damn it. At least I need something to fiddle with.'
I'd have to go to the shopping district tomorrow and buy myself a walking stick or something. As I was wasting time in that awkward limbo, thankfully, a conversation partner appeared on her own.
"Hey, you. Low rank and all, but you sure can talk."
It was Barbatos, the Demon Lord who had been needling Paimon nonstop even before the hearing began. She strutted up to me in a red-dominated dress, walking with quick, short steps. Though her appearance was that of a young girl, her gait and demeanor carried an adult air, giving her a subtly off-kilter vibe.
"I'm honored, Lady Barbatos."
She was, after all, a superior Demon Lord far above me in rank. With Paimon as my reluctant adversary, having even one high-ranking Demon Lord who harbored some goodwill toward me was a relief. I bowed as respectfully as I could.
"Aah, enough, enough. I can't stand that stuffy politeness."
She scrunched her face up in disgust, making a sour expression, and waved her hand dismissively.
"Today's Demon Lords have no spine! Back in the day, you'd greet someone by exchanging fireballs instead of pleasantries. They don't even know how to socialize."
……It was surreal hearing a lady who looked like a little kid talk about 'these days' and 'young people.' For the record, Barbatos was also a character with a fairly dedicated fanbase. You'd regularly see posts on strategy fan sites praising her as an SM loli or whatever, and honestly, I had no idea what any of that gibberish meant.
"Thanks to her, I had fun for the first time in ages. Ah, the look on that harlot's face when she was seething!"
"You and Lady Paimon don't seem to get along."
"Huh? What's with the 'Lady' this and 'Lady' that?"
Barbatos's small, faint eyebrows furrowed.
"You, dropping titles like that—did you knock your head into a pillar? Hey, aren't you a Demon Lord?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good. At least your answers are quick. Listen, you're a Demon Lord and she's a Demon Lord. Why are you using honorifics with someone on the same level? I really don't get it. Are you her vassal or something?"
"No, I'm not."
"Exactly! So stop with the 'Lady' here and the 'Lady' there—I can't tell anymore whether I came to Walpurgis Night or to my own Demon Lord's Castle."
She looked like a fragile young girl, but her way of speaking was completely at odds with that appearance. How should I put it? It was really a stretch from Barbatos's looks, but... she came across exactly like a crime boss, a mafia don.
"From now on, I'll be calling you Lady Barbatos."
"Just talk normally, you little brat. You looking down on me 'cause I'm older than you? You can shove your 'respect your elders' crap right up your ass."
"Haha."
I laughed, genuinely amused. Even in the game, she was a character born with a rebellious streak. People like this—while holding positions of high authority, they establish their own kind of authority by deliberately tearing down the aura around them. By projecting the impression that "I'm strong enough to trample all over authority" to everyone in their vicinity.
Getting on Barbatos's good side was relatively straightforward.
I extended my right hand.
"Alright, Barbatos. I'm Dantalion."
"Huh? You're really going casual just like that?"
Barbatos gripped my hand in return. She was wearing white gloves. The feel of high-quality cotton slid smoothly into my palm.
"Well, I'm not about to dismiss the words of the eighth-ranked as nonsense."
"What?"
Barbatos giggled. It seemed she'd immediately grasped my intention—that using casual speech was precisely the way to show I was taking her words seriously.
"You little brat, you must've coated your tongue in olive oil. Well, you'd need to be this smooth to give that bitch Paimon a taste of her own medicine. Fine. My name's Barbatos. Call me whatever you want, brat."
Force surged into the handshake. A hologram appeared alongside it.
"Demon Lord Barbatos's Affinity increases by 5."
That was right. Barbatos liked people who were brave and honest. She was quite fond of the Hero as well—someone who charged into battle without a shred of hesitation or ulterior motive. She didn't discriminate between friend and foe when it came to showing favor.
Personally, separate from the lolicons' support, I didn't dislike "Demon Lord" Barbatos. After all, she was one of the Demon Lords who fought most aggressively against the Hero's party. She used every means at her disposal to push the Hero's party into desperate situations.
'Die already, you son of a bitch.'
Her end contrasted with Paimon's in many ways. Where Paimon had demanded a kiss right up to the final moment, trying to leave as deep an impression on the Hero as possible, Barbatos had cursed and demanded to be killed quickly. The moment she said "son of a bitch," an illustration popped up on the game screen, and sure enough, Barbatos was laughing uproariously. If that wasn't a crime-boss lady straight out of a movie, I didn't know what was.
"Listen up. Paimon may be unlucky, but she's not the type to hold a grudge and torment people over it. You get what I mean?"
"Don't worry about fallout—just finish Paimon off for good, is what you're saying."
"Wow!"
Barbatos raised her eyes. She grabbed the hem of Marbas's robes—who was standing quietly beside her—and tugged at them over and over.
"Old man! Look at this kid! He understands what people say scarily well."
"I...am deep in thought. Do not disturb me."
"Holy shit, how has a guy like this only been ranked 71st this whole time? With that kind of awareness, he could've been ranked 40th ages ago even if he'd been begging for food on the streets. What have you been doing with your life? Hey, old man. You should nurture this kid. Some of those ranked around the 50th spot have been whining lately—like old men griping on a rainy day—that they're not satisfied."
"You yourself have argued that a Demon Lord must be one who stands alone."
Marbas still had his eyes closed, but his eyebrows twitched.
"And do not disturb me."
"Ah, I just meant that in general, you damn fool. I was just happy to meet a promising youngster after dealing with nothing but hopeless morons all the time. You really love putting on airs, don't you."
Ah, his eyebrows twitched again.
But he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. Some strange place to have an ego battle, this guy.
"Anyway, yeah. Don't worry about the consequences—just go for it. If that whore even thinks about retaliating, I'll step in and stop her. Got it? Understood?"
"Thanks."
"Oh my, do you think I'm doing this for your sake? I'm doing this because I want to mess with that worthless whore who doesn't even have a shred of luck to shove up her nose. Do well, Dantalion or whatever. Your personality seems pretty stable—do things right and you might live a long life."
And with that, Barbatos spun around and walked off to the other side. She left just as coolly as she'd arrived. Honestly, I couldn't help but admire her. Every time I see someone who radiates that level of perfect self-satisfaction, I find myself involuntarily offering praise.
Once she was completely gone, Marbas suddenly let out a sigh.
Hmm, I had a rough idea of how their relationship worked. Based on the conversation Marbas and Paimon had earlier, it seemed like this man placed a great deal of importance on tradition. Someone with that kind of personality would find a wrecking ball like Barbatos to be pure poison.
"...It's almost time."
Marbas opened his eyes.
Good grief. Now I saw it — closing his eyes hadn't been about deep thought or anything like that. He'd simply been counting out exactly five minutes in his head. I was starting to get a feel for this man's personality, like the shape of it was coming into focus right in my hands.
"Since the witness has failed to appear, this hearing ought to be adjourned."
Marbas cast a brief glance toward the ballroom's main entrance.
"But since you've scraped in just barely within time, we'll let it slide."
At that moment, two figures walked in beneath the marble archway.
One was Paimon. The other was the goblin Torkel, who stood a good deal shorter than Paimon. Torkel wore a thoroughly solemn and composed expression. Paimon, by contrast, had a face brimming with elation.
"Right! This here is Torkel!"
Paimon declared with a triumphant voice, as if the game were already won.
"Ask him anything you like! Torkel will vouch for the fact that Dantalion was the one who spread the Black Death!"
"Hmm."
Marbas turned his head toward Ibar. He was confirming whether the man was truly an executive of the Kunkuska Trading Company. Ibar bowed respectfully. Marbas nodded.
"Very well. Old goblin, you are hereby accepted as a witness in this hearing. Step forward."
"It is my honor to meet Your Excellencies here today."
Torkel walked to the center of the ballroom. He carried the same oversized staff I had seen before — nearly twice his height — and leaned on it as he bowed to all sides.
You could sense that he had steeled himself with tremendous resolve.
'...Hm.'
I was somewhat curious, to be honest. Frankly, having come this far, I couldn't see how Torkel could turn the situation around. It was simply the truth that I hadn't spread the Black Death. No matter how senior an executive of the Kunkuska Trading Company he was, he couldn't conjure something from nothing — especially not in front of the world's greatest lie detectors.
And yet Torkel carried courage in his chest like a knight marching onto the battlefield. It seemed he had already made some sort of resolute decision.
'How on earth?'
Thanks to Paimon, whether she wanted it or not, the responsibility for this incident had been transferred from the Kunkuska Trading Company to Torkel personally. To make matters worse, Ivar, another top executive of Kunkuska, was currently bound by my threats with no room to maneuver. Torkel was in a position where he couldn't even count on the Company's backing.
No matter how hard I racked my brain, I couldn't come up with anything Torkel could do. The board was set. The only people who didn't know that fact were probably just a handful, including that fool Paimon.
A flicker of anxiety crossed my mind — what if Torkel had some hidden card I didn't know about? By now, there was really nothing I could do. I couldn't very well threaten Marbas, the moderator, into forcing the hearing to an end.
"I have a question. Did you say that Dantalion was the one behind the outbreak of the Black Death?"
"Yes, that is what I stated."
"On what grounds did you make that claim? If you have evidence, present it."
"Yes."
Torkel raised his upper body. He looked at Marbas and recited his words in a clear, measured tone. From behind, Paimon watched him with a smile on her face.
It took less than ten seconds for that smile to turn to shock.
"I indeed told Lord Paimon that it was Lord Dantalion who caused the Black Death. However, that was a lie. A complete and utter fabrication."
"W-What?!"
Paimon was aghast. Marbas's expression didn't so much as twitch as he stared down Torkel. He was probably weighing whether the man's words were lies or truth. Regardless, Torkel pressed on quickly with what he had to say.
"Lord Dantalion and I had a small connection. When the Lord discovered a remedy effective against the Black Death, I saw commercial value in it. That is why I approached the Lord personally and proposed that I become his dedicated representative going forward. However, the Lord refused me, saying he already had a dedicated representative."
Torkel raised his cane and pointed toward a corner of the ballroom.
"That dedicated representative is the young lady standing over there. Lapis Lazuli. Nothing more than a junior employee. The thought that I had been rejected in favor of a junior employee filled me with a profound sense of humiliation. I am a merchant who has weathered centuries, mind you. Lord Dantalion's refusal dealt a devastating blow to my pride as a businessman. So..."
"Torkel! What are you saying, Torkel?!"
Paimon was now outright screaming.
"Look at the young lady! Look quickly! Look at her right now!"
"...And so I resolved to take my revenge on Lord Dantalion. I also took it as a challenge to me as a merchant of Kunkuska. In any case, I determined that some form of retaliation was necessary."
That was when I grasped what Torkel was truly after.
—What a terrifying fellow.
I glanced over to see what Ivar was doing. Ivar was sitting quietly with his eyes shut. Damn it! I was so tense I could've let one rip. So that's how the deal was made.
"I approached His Majesty Paimon and said this: Dantalion intends to wipe out every last human. The unprecedented plague that was created — that was also Dantalion's doing. And since there was the assassination of His Majesty Andromalius, if we aggressively pursue that angle, we can deal a blow to Dantalion. What do you think, His Majesty Marbas? Is there any falsehood in my words?"
"Hm."
"I dare say there is none. That is only natural, for I spoke nothing but the truth. All of this was a scheme I carried out alone. I personally harbored a grudge against His Majesty Dantalion, and I acted to cause him harm. I was the one who leaked information about His Majesty Dantalion — a customer of our Kunkuska Trading Company — to His Majesty Paimon. If His Majesty Paimon bears any guilt, it is only the guilt of having trusted this old man's words. All the fault lies with me, though I am most humble."
There was no time to intervene.
"I wish to atone for this with my life."
The moment those words ended.
Torkel drew a dagger from within his robes and plunged it straight into the center of his own throat. The blade pierced the old Goblin's thin neck far too easily. The tip of the blade protruded from the back of his neck like a thorn.
The small Goblin's body collapsed onto the cold floor of the ballroom.