The volunteers were safely relocated to a nearby city and disbanded for the time being.
The Parisiorum region fell completely under the control of the Bretagne forces. The majority of the Imperial Guard units that had refused to obey the Emperor's orders were brought back in line after the battle. The Empress Dowager's faction collapsed spectacularly. Frank sent a mixture of admiration and dread at the achievements of the young queen.
The Emperor's faction—well, combining it with Bretagne, perhaps the Royalist faction was the better term. The Royalists could now be considered to have firmly consolidated their power.
The massacre that erupted in Parisiorum spread to the surrounding cities like a contagion. The Emperor's blunder had somehow been repackaged as "His Majesty's iron fist upon those traitorous republicans." Across the entirety of Frank save the northern regions, republicans were slaughtered.
It was the mayors and local city officials who led the killings. It was, in essence, a gesture of "I'm on His Majesty's side, so please spare me!" Such was the way of the world.
The provincial governors had quietly watched from the sidelines, unsure whether to side with the Emperor or the Empress Dowager, but the Battle of Saint-Denis proved decisive. The queen's majesty in crushing sixty thousand with twenty thousand bowed every head in submission.
All of them threw themselves into the slaughter with desperate fervor, eager to deflect blame for having stood by and done nothing. A few conscientious mayors refused the call to kill, and that was all. The tide had turned. For the foreseeable future, republicans would have to wave their hands cautiously even when touching themselves behind closed doors—as long as they were still alive, that is.
One could feel, to the marrow of one's bones, what defeat truly meant.
"I hear a large number of retired knights from the Habsburgs have flooded into Frank."
"Retired knights, you say?"
"Yes."
Paimon sipped her green tea.
I had been summoned by Paimon shortly after the defeat. I worried she might hold me accountable, but mercifully that was not the case. In Paimon's eyes as well, the Battle of Saint-Denis was something no single commander could have altered.
In the depths of the Batavia Republic's Governor's Residence, within a garden constructed in secret, Paimon and I sat across a table from each other and talked.
Spring had arrived in full force. Green and red flowers bloomed sparsely throughout the garden.
"The newly established Habsburg Republic still has quite a few remnants of the nobility. Among them are quite a few with backgrounds in knightly orders."
"I see. Within the country, they'd be nothing but potential rebels and reactionaries... Consul Elisabeth sends them to Queen Henrietta, killing two birds with one stone. Is that it?"
Paimon smiled gently. She looked like a sheltered young lady of a noble house.
"Your eye hasn't dulled at all, Dantalion."
"I'm nothing more than a commander who suffered a crushing defeat."
I shrugged.
A cooperative framework had been established between Consul Elisabeth, the lifelong consul, and Queen Henrietta. Elisabeth got to dispose of the nobility-sourced knightly orders without spilling a drop of blood, and Henrietta gained a massive military force. A win-win.
In the original Dungeon Attack, the two fought each other tooth and nail for control of the continent. Yet somehow, in this world, the two had joined hands with exquisite precision. What on earth went wrong?
"Victory and defeat are the fortunes of war, as they say. You did more than your part, Dantalion."
"Well, I'm not so sure about that..."
"At the very least, northern Frank has come within the Republic's sphere of influence. One of the wealthiest regions in all of Frank has fallen into republican hands. If that doesn't count as an achievement, what would? Have some confidence."
Paimon quietly pressed her lips to her teacup.
"I'm grateful you see it that way. Ha ha."
I scratched the back of my head. How to put it—it felt like our roles had been reversed.
But this was Paimon's nature, wasn't it? She was more familiar with failure than anyone.
She had devoted several hundred years to founding the Batavia Republic. Leisurely. More composed than anyone. That, perhaps, was Paimon's creed. From her perspective, seizing northern Frank alone might well represent an enormous gain.
"Not just Frank, but the Liberation Alliance has risen across the entire continent. Currently, revolutions are underway in the Vernicia Kingdom, the Kingdom of Sardinia, the Kingdom of Castile, and the Kingdom of Moscow. They're expected to break out in Polithunia and Kalmar as well."
"That's quite serious."
I wet my mouth with the tea. The hot water sliding down my esophagus dissolved the tension in my body.
"...What are the odds of winning, in your estimation?"
"A perfect victory is out of the question, but we should be able to secure independence for at least a few regional cities."
Paimon answered calmly.
It sounded modest on the surface, but it was a statement about achieving urban independence—that is, mass-producing free cities. Most of those cities would be prime territory, fabulously wealthy. National tax revenues would plummet. A death blow to the monarchs.
"You've worked hard these past few months, Dantalion. You must need some rest as well. I'll call on you again if something comes up."
"Thank you for your concern."
"Hmm. If you have no plans today, you're welcome to spend the rest of the day with me?"
Paimon smiled. Her eyes gleamed like a lioness eyeing her prey.
"I'm honored, but I must respectfully decline, Lady Paimon."
It wasn't as though I was immune to the appeal of being called "the man who bedded both Barbatos and Paimon," but I feared the consequences. That Paimon would almost certainly spread the news to every female Demon Lord in the realm—purely to mock Barbatos.
And then Barbatos would come charging at me with a scythe. She'd grin and say, "I'll make sure you can never waggle that pathetic thing again, you pig," and slice me off from the root. No joke. Barbatos would actually do that.
Paimon let out a soft sigh.
"Ah, you know, I am the Queen of Succubae. Be honest with me—am I really that unappealing?"
"Lady Paimon is a supreme beauty. But Barbatos would kill me if she found out. Well, if you promised to keep it secret from Barbatos until the very end, that might be a different story..."
"That wouldn't be any fun."
Paimon laughed behind her fan. Good grief, I knew it.
I said my farewells and left the garden. The thought of returning to the Demon Lord's Castle for the first time in two months eased the sting of defeat considerably. I was about to leave the Governor's Residence through the secret passage when I realized I'd left something behind. The wooden ball I'd been fidgeting with in my right hand—the one I always touched when my emotions grew unstable—was gone.
"Oh—Lady Paimon, I forgot my—"
I turned back, intending to apologize, and then I saw it.
In the center of the garden where spring blossoms bloomed, Paimon stood with her head bowed in the bright sunlight. A handkerchief covered her face... and her shoulders trembled faintly.
Through the gap between her face and the handkerchief, the sound of weeping drifted out. In a garden where not a single servant remained, the Demon Lord's crying sank into the silence.
"..."
What could she possibly be grieving for?
There were more guesses than I could count.
The sorrow of watching the dream of a free republic recede another step further away. The sorrow of countless innocent lives sacrificed for nothing. The sorrow of failing to end the civil war in one stroke and instead plunging the entire nation into chaos.
I had thought she was accustomed to defeat. But I was wrong. No one ever truly becomes accustomed to defeat—they merely become skilled at pretending. How foolish I had been.
Even when a mere goblin merchant—one who had betrayed her—had taken his own life, Paimon had wept. Now, tens of thousands of people who had supported her ideology had been massacred. The depth of her sorrow was beyond anything I could imagine.
I forced a wry smile.
*'She'd find it easier if she could just blame me.'*
But she hadn't blamed me in the slightest. Paimon was a Demon Lord of fierce pride...
I muffled my footsteps and slipped out of the Governor's Residence as quickly as I could. I might be cooperating with the Liberation Alliance now, but at any moment I could betray them for my own benefit. If I kept watching scenes like that, I might go soft later.
I would pretend I hadn't seen any of it. Tears did not suit a selfish Demon Lord like her at all, did they, Paimon?
I entrusted full authority over the militia to Zachary and returned to the dungeon.
Incidentally, Daisy and Luke, along with Jeremy and the rest of the assassination squad, all followed me. The group was large enough that I had to tear open intermediate Teleport Scrolls. I left Daisy and Luke in the village—I partly wanted them to have the chance to see their parents after so long—and I rushed headlong to the Demon Lord's Castle.
"The prodigal son returns! My lovely sweet home!"
I approached the entrance to what was called the Demon Lord's Castle but functionally a cave, and shouted. But the exterior of the cave had completely transformed. Massive pillars stood grandly at the entrance, like those of a temple. Goblin workers clung to them, painstakingly carving intricate designs.
"Oh ho! The first floor is nearly finished already?"
"My, my. If it isn't His Highness Dantalion!"
The goblin who appeared to be the foreman rushed over with a deep bow.
"Has Your Highness been in the peak of health? Has Your Highness been free of all ailments? Has Your Highness been in the finest of spirits?"
"Heh heh. Just hearing your greetings alone, the weariness of travel already seems to melt away."
I thumped the goblin on the back. The goblin, believing his flattery had landed, rubbed his hands together even more eagerly.
"The entrance section under my humble charge has already entered its final phase. We have labored with all our effort, but our skill is lacking, and we fear we have failed to capture the full measure of Your Highness Dantalion's illustrious reputation. Please forgive us."
"What are you talking about? It looks more than adequate. If a Demon Lord's dwelling is too lavish, it gets criticized for being too human. It needs a certain gravity to it. Isn't that right?"
"You speak most truly, Your Highness! Heh heh."
The other goblin workers nearby chimed in unison: "Indeed, only Your Highness Dantalion could say such a thing!" The timing was impeccable.
Ah—this was the feeling.
People throwing themselves at my feet, scrambling to get on my good side. In Frank, I had rarely experienced this kind of atmosphere. A Demon Lord truly only shone when surrounded by Demonkin.
"Ha ha ha! Wonderful! Let's have a grand feast tonight!"
I pulled out my purse and scattered gold coins at random. The goblins shrieked in astonishment and swarmed toward me.
"Gold coins! It's gold coins!"
"Ker-rlrlr, payday just hit the ground!"
The goblins crawled on all fours like dogs, scrambling to scoop up the coins. They were the most avaricious race in the Demon Realm, bar none. Even the foreman who had been groveling to me moments ago abandoned all pretense of dignity and threw himself into the mob, cackling wildly.
"Hoo hoo hoo! Rest easy—my purse is still bulging!"
"Kerl! Long live His Highness Dantalion!"
"Long live the most magnificent Demon Lord on the continent!"
I rained down gold to my heart's content, and with every shower, the goblins roared their cheers. This was why, whether human or Demonkin, money always came first. Even the sour mood from a military defeat could be brightened this easily.
I walked into the cave, showering gold along every path I passed. The dwarves and goblins hard at work on the Demon Lord's Castle construction shouted hurrah at their unexpected windfall. A Demon Lord's triumphant return required this level of celebration.
After strolling along at a leisurely pace for about thirty minutes, I spotted Lapis in the distance. Lapis, as always, was dressed in her black uniform and directing the workers. Several dwarves and goblins who appeared to be construction foremen trailed obediently behind her.
I called out.
"Lapis! It's me! Dantalion is back!"
"..."
Lapis glanced in my direction. Those blue eyes I had longed for even in dreams turned toward me. But the response I expected did not come. Lapis wore an expressionless face.
"Yes. Please prepare a reserve space there. We'll need a storeroom. No, that area doesn't need to be built large. The Azure Rooster Comb Office staff, please handle the materials acquisition..."
She turned back to the construction workers and issued a flurry of complex instructions. The workers showed no particular inclination to focus on me. Feeling awkward, I sidled up to her.
"Hey, Lapis? It's Dantalion? Your Demon Lord, whom you haven't seen in two months? I wasn't expecting anything extravagant, but a warm word or two would be nice..."
Lapis replied without a flicker of expression.
"I'm working right now. Can't you see? You're being a disturbance. Please talk to me later."
"..."
Lapis was Lapis, everywhere and always.