I walk along a long corridor.
Ahead of me, slightly to the side, is a small back.
Two heads shorter than me.
Because of that, the walking pace is considerably slower than mine.
Thanks to that, I have to move more slowly than usual.
It's a hassle, but I can't exactly overtake her.
Because the girl walking in front of me is none other than the current Demon King.
After spending a long time making our way down the corridor, we arrive before a single door.
There, the Demon King stops in her tracks.
To be honest, I don't want to open this door.
I don't want to, but I can't exactly leave it closed.
I swallow the sigh that almost escapes and throw the door open.
Then I step aside, letting the Demon King pass, and bow my head respectfully.
The Demon King, as though this were the most natural thing in the world, doesn't so much as glance at me and strides into the room.
Once I've confirmed that the Demon King has entered, I follow after her.
I close the door quietly so it doesn't make a sound.
The room I turn to face is, in short, a conference room.
At its center stands a circular table, with a seat of honor at the head for the Demon King.
Ten men and women were already seated around that circular table.
Half of them rose to their feet upon the Demon King's entrance.
The other half remained seated.
The problem is that among those who stayed in their seats is my own brother.
I force the sigh threatening to rise back down my throat.
I pull out the Demon King's chair and gesture for her to sit.
True to form, the Demon King doesn't spare me a single glance and plops down into the chair with a graceless, casual motion.
Several of those assembled visibly grimace.
The Demon King probably noticed every one of them.
She's enjoying those reactions, after all.
I think it's in poor taste, but if I let it show on my face too, there's no telling what she'll say to me later.
Maintaining a poker face is the most effective approach with this Demon King.
"Then, let us begin the meeting. Barto."
"Yes."
The signal from the Demon King to start.
My brief acknowledgment.
To put it plainly, once that signal has been given, the Demon King has no further role to play.
I handle the entire proceedings—the flow of the meeting, all the practical matters.
Or rather, she's dumped it all on me.
"Now then, let us hear the reports from each front. Begin with the First Army."
This follows the usual format for these meetings, where we listen to activity reports from the armies deployed across various regions.
The one to stand at my words was
Lord Agner might appear young by human standards, but in truth, he is a veteran of the long-lived demon race—one who has lived longer than most.
He possesses the strength and caliber that almost make you wonder why he hasn't served as Demon King himself.
"The First Army has completed preparations for the advance on Kusolion Fortress, directly facing the Lengzant Empire. Supply lines have also been fully deployed, so we can march at a moment's notice. That concludes my report."
Lord Agner delivers his report concisely, without a single unnecessary word.
You can see the essence of his straightforward, no-nonsense character.
"The Second Army is in the same position. However, if you could grant us a bit more time, the covert operation may bear fruit."
The next to rise was a bewitchingly beautiful woman.
Sarnathria, commander of the Second Legion.
Among the demon race, she is a succubus who wields her allure as a weapon.
The covert operation almost certainly refers to something of that nature.
"How much time?"
"Two to three days at most, if things go well."
"Proceed, so long as it doesn't hinder the march."
"Thank you."
Sarnathria settles back into her seat with a charming smile that nearly makes my heart skip.
However, even after Sarnathria sits down, the third legion commander still doesn't budge.
"
"Au. So... it's gonna be war after all?"
At my call, the massive Kogou shrinks in on himself as he speaks.
"So... there's really no avoiding war?"
"No, there isn't. If we could avoid it, we would."
"Au. Really? For sure?"
As Kogou continued to press the point and I was about to tell him he was being tiresome, a different voice cut through the room.
"There is no avoiding it. However, Third Legion Commander Kogou, if you are so desperate to escape war, it isn't as though there's no way out, you know."
It was the Demon King.
Her face wore the cruel, mischievous grin of someone who had just thought up a wicked prank.
"Wh-what way?"
"Simple. The entire Third Army just has to become the foundation of the world."
Kogou froze at the Demon King's words.
"What's wrong? This would allow you to avoid war, wouldn't it?"
"S-sorry. I won't say anymore. So, please, give me a break."
"Kogou, let this be a lesson. Keep your mouth shut. Do you have a report?"
Before the Demon King could press Kogou any further, I stepped in quickly.
"Everything is proceeding smoothly."
"Very well. Next."
The Demon King looks a bit displeased, but this is fine.
The Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Armies deliver their reports without incident.
Then it's the Seventh Legion Commander's turn.
But the Seventh Legion Commander—my brother, Blow—showed no sign of standing.
"Blow."
"Brother, I'm still not okay with this."
Blow crosses his arms, puffing out his chest, and speaks with bitterness.
"Why is it not you—the one who's been leading and managing the demon race all this time—but some nobody woman who's the Demon King? That doesn't make any damn sense!"
"Blow—"
"And you, brother! How can you grovel before someone like that!? I don't see anything in that woman that warrants your loyalty!"
"How dare you! Your insolence toward the Demon King knows no bounds!"
The fifth legion commander,
Blow and Darad have clashing personalities and frequently clash like this.
Each time, others have to intervene—but this time, no one moves to stop them.
Some sympathize with Blow, others with Darad, and still others simply watch.
That was the extent of the legion commanders' reactions.
Regardless of their private feelings, it seemed everyone had decided to observe in silence.
"Blow! No matter who the Demon King is, it is the natural order of the world for us demons to serve the Demon King! Have you forgotten that!?"
"The hell do I care about that!? That woman hasn't done a single thing to prove herself! I haven't even seen her lift a finger!"
"You think we have the right to question the Demon King's will!? The Demon King possesses depths of thought far beyond what any of us could imagine!"
"That's just giving up on thinking for yourself! You can't just go along with anything because the Demon King said so! Don't you lecture me when you can't even think for yourself, you idiot!"
"You... you dare call me a fool!?"
Caught between the two as they trade increasingly heated barbs, the sixth legion commander, Hyui, twists his boyish face in exasperation.
The other legion commanders watch the situation unfold.
Among them, the fourth legion commander's thoughts are unreadable even to me.
Melazophis, the fourth legion commander, sat motionless, his expressionless, pale face as still as a mask.
Of all the colorful characters among the legion commanders, this man is perhaps the most inscrutable.
I keep tabs on his movements, but so far he's made no suspicious moves.
"That's it!"
Blow finally reaches for his weapon.
Darad instinctively reaches for his own, but his hand never reaches it.
"My—my body—"
"Can't move!?"
Both of their bodies had gone rigid, frozen in place against their will.
"Sorry about this, but could you two not fight over something so pointless?"
The Demon King delivers those cutting words—the very cause of the argument.
Astonishment fills the room.
It wasn't just the two of them who were frozen.
None of them could figure out how the Demon King had immobilized them.
And that was understandable.
The Demon King had always kept her true power hidden.
What held them in place now were threads—so fine they were invisible to the naked eye.
Those threads extended from behind each man's neck.
Puppet strings.
Anyone caught in these threads becomes a marionette under the Demon King's control.
That didn't apply only to living things.
As far as I knew, the Demon King could use these threads to simultaneously control ten combat-designed automatons, annihilating entire enemy forces.
But that was the extent of what even I knew.
The Demon King still hadn't shown me all her trump cards.
The Demon King was not the incompetent Blow claimed.
A Demon King was not a Demon King simply by title.
A Demon King was a Demon King because she possessed the ability to be one.
"If you keep being this pointless, I'll kill you myself, you know."
A ferocious grin.
Seeing that, no one in the room harbored any thought of defying the Demon King.
The puppet strings pulled.
That alone was enough to force both men back into their seats.
Simultaneously, the threads detached, and only then did they regain control of their bodies.
"I—my apologies."
"..."
Darad, face pale, voiced his apology. Blow could say nothing.
"Then, the Eighth Army's report."
As a brother, this may be harsh, but I leave my hapless brother where he is.
"No problems here."
The Eighth Legion Commander, Raas, gave that terse reply and nothing more.
This man had little interest in matters like who served as Demon King.
He had other issues in other areas, but none of them were relevant here, so it was fine.
The problem was the remaining two.
"The Ninth Army is also ready to advance without issue."
If I had to describe this man in a word, it would be *black*.
Black armor that seemed fused to his body as one.
Slightly tan skin, barely visible on his face.
His hair was black, too.
Only his eyes stood out—an unnervingly deep red.
His name, I didn't even know.
He was simply called "Black."
"The Tenth Army. No issues."
And seated beside Black was a girl who was his complete opposite—*white*.
She wore a pure white robe.
Her exposed skin was likewise unnaturally pale.
Her long hair, woven into a braid, was white as well.
With her eyes closed, every shade about her was white.
Her name, I didn't know either.
She was simply called "White."
These were the two the Demon King had added to the demon army's senior command.
Their origins were unknown.
Unknown, but I could guess.
These two were likely Rulers.
Those said to pull the strings of the world from the shadows—the Rulers.
Two of their number.
I had no idea how the Demon King had brought such beings under her command.
But their overwhelming eeriness nonetheless filled me with a sense of wariness.
"Mm, mm. Everything's going smoothly."
The Demon King nodded, in high spirits.
"Then, shall we begin the war?"
And with those words, the great war between demon and human—arguably the worst in history—quietly drew its curtain.
I let out a quiet, private sigh at that truth.