"Not with the three of us — absolutely not!"
"Really? Truly not?"
I winked at her adorably.
I'd never been cut out for cute, and no amount of effort on my part could change that. The question was whether Paimon was sickened by my display of affection or by my proposal. Either way, the outlook was bleak.
"No! How many times do I have to say it, Dantalion?"
"You're being awfully stingy. Haven't you done it with Sitri loads of times?"
"Sitri is a special case. She was already my lover, and she could pull off both the female and male roles, so it was comfortable. This is an entirely different matter. Entirely!"
I let out a sigh.
"Not even if I beg until my hands wear through?"
"I'd sooner hang myself from a pillar and be done with it."
"Not even if I stab the outfit with a dagger?"
"Before that, I'd strangle Dantalion."
"Paimon."
I said it with deadly seriousness.
With the grave face of a philosopher about to announce that he had finally solved the most impenetrable metaphysical problem in the world, I spoke.
"Why can't the three of us — Barbatos, you, and me — share a bed?"
"No — !"
A terrible scream echoed through the aerial garden of Paimon's Demon Lord's Castle.
Since the Habsburg Empire had appointed the Elector Demon Lords, I had been enjoying a leisurely holiday in the aerial garden. The garden maintained mild weather year-round, making it perfect for rest. Lying in a meadow blanketed with roses, I luxuriated in Paimon's lap pillow.
Thinking the atmosphere was just right, I brought up an idea I had been toying with for some time.
It was about the relationship between Paimon, Barbatos, and myself.
To put it bluntly, it was a threesome.
"I expected rejection, but I didn't think the reaction would be this violent…"
"Why are you sighing? As if I did something wrong! The one who made the outrageous proposal from the start was you, Dantalion!"
The moment she heard my suggestion, Paimon flew into a rage.
Even though I was still resting my head on her, she pulled her knees away, sending my skull crashing to the ground. That stung a little. We naturally faced each other and started arguing.
"Honestly, just explain it to me. Sitri is fine but Barbatos is not — why? Is it because Barbatos doesn't have enough… equipment underneath?"
"Ha. You know perfectly well, so why bother asking? Sitri was my lover from the start, and she's someone I'm incredibly close to, so it's fine. Between Barbatos and Sitri, there's a gap wider than the one between goblins and elves!"
"You used to be lovers with Barbatos too, didn't you?"
Paimon flinched.
"…How many years ago was that? Over two thousand years. Besides, we had a spectacular falling-out. I can't even remember who dumped whom at this point."
"Just because you were lovers once doesn't mean you can't do it again. Paimon. Let's go for it — full steam ahead."
"Do you have any idea how cheap your phrasing gets sometimes?"
Paimon glared at me. Her eyes dripped with contempt.
But I had my own arguments ready.
"If we keep going like this, the Plains Faction and the Mountain Faction will eventually collide. The Habsburg Empire was just a convenient label to draw the organizations together, but it's nothing more than a stopgap. The leaders of each faction can barely stand each other — what can you do?"
"…."
"Paimon. I like you. But to speak my honest truth — Barbatos is also precious to me. I desperately want the two of you not to be at odds. And even if you are, I want it to end anything but catastrophically."
Paimon sighed.
"So your proposal is to stitch us together physically for the time being?"
"Because from where I stand, the two of you achieving spiritual reconciliation seems about as likely as the sun and moon sharing a passionate kiss."
"And your real motivation?"
"If we just go at it like crazy, with no room to dwell on old grudges, maybe things will work themselves out somehow — that's what I'm thinking."
"Trash…"
Paimon rarely swore. For a woman of her caliber, "trash" was a truly scathing insult.
"Knowing your personality, you wouldn't have broached this with me first. Did you talk to Barbatos?"
"Yeah."
I nodded reluctantly.
"I sounded her out the day before yesterday."
"When you get flustered, your speech turns all political — it's a bad habit of yours."
"I have no idea what you're…"
"Forget it. Just tell me the result."
I smiled.
"The whip marks from that encounter are still on my back. Would you like to see them for yourself?"
"Called it."
Paimon lifted a white porcelain cup and sipped her tea. I followed suit, drinking my tea the same way I always did — loaded with sugar.
"The two of us reconciling is fundamentally impossible. The best we can hope for is that by maintaining roughly equal strength, neither side will dare make a move easily."
"So it was just a beautiful dream after all…"
"Hmm. I wouldn't call it a dream — more like a sordid fantasy."
"I wanted to try it at least once."
"You really do have ulterior motives!"
What else?
Any red-blooded man would dream of it. On the left: Barbatos, a white-haired girl with a lovely, delicate figure. On the right: Paimon, a woman of tantalizing curves and bewitching beauty. Enjoying both the Plains Faction and the Mountain Faction side by side.
Wait. If that were the case, wouldn't the Neutral Faction's Marbas have to be in the middle?
"…."
The terrifying image flashed through my mind, and I shuddered involuntarily.
This wouldn't do. Even though I had shared intimate nights with Sitri, Sitri was fundamentally female. Barely safe. I was still barely safe. If I took one step further, I might cross a river from which there was no return…
"Don't worry too much, Dantalion."
Paimon gently stroked my hair.
"I know that Barbatos is precious to you, and I'm sure she feels the same way. Even if she and I loathe each other until the day we die, we can endure a little for your sake."
"…Is that so?"
As though drawn by an invisible current, I rested my head back on Paimon's lap. Her soft skin cradled my heavy skull.
"I question whether such flimsy safety measures will actually help."
"Barbatos is far gentler than you think. If she becomes convinced that killing me would only bring you pain, then she would never lay a hand on me."
"And you would do the same?"
"Of course."
Paimon covered the corner of her mouth with her palm and laughed elegantly.
"I'd forgive her as long as she only cut off my limbs."
"Good grief. That's some forgiveness."
"At least I'd still be alive?"
Despite her innocent face, Paimon's mind was secretly ruthless. And the fact that I found that attractive probably meant my own brain was rotting away too.
I gave a bitter smile and closed my eyes.
Paimon hummed a soft little song. It should end here. It's all over now. Why does she forget the past and yearn only for my sorrow? Why does she keep goading me into shedding tears? I can find no cure for the pain in my heart…
Half-asleep, I murmured.
"Paimon."
"Yes, Dantalion?"
"You're actually not much of a singer…"
"Do you want me to rip your ears off?"
Paimon glared at me in exasperation, then — for reasons I couldn't fathom — laughed softly. I liked that sound, how it brushed past my ears like a playful breeze. And I drifted off to sleep. It should end here. It's all over now…
But.
Nothing was over yet.
"…."
Had I dozed off for a moment?
A sound of someone clearing their throat quietly pulled me awake. I opened my eyes and looked around. The royal guards stood at attention, tense and bristling. An enemy swordmaster was cutting through toward this position. And the enemy had pierced through several layers of battle lines single-handedly. Without question, the strongest warrior in existence.
"Pull the troops back."
"Your Highness. That cannot be done for security reasons."
Zackry said flatly. This loyal mercenary always showed me what true professionalism looked like. He knew only a small world, and precisely because of that, his world was solid. That intensity was admirable in its own right.
"Your Highness, it has been quite some time since we became comrades in the Liberation Alliance."
"Yes. It has been many days since that night."
"That's right. Paimon brought me in."
Zackry fell silent.
To Zackry, Paimon was something of an idol. This short, sturdy dwarf had been captivated by her, had devoted his entire life to republicanism, and now served me — Paimon's successor, at least on the surface.
"I was just dreaming of Paimon. Still as beautiful as ever. Her voice, her face — even her touch feels vivid to me."
"…."
"Zackry. The Frank Empire is becoming a loose federation of republics. The Kingdom of Sardinia will find itself in the same situation — city-states multiplying in every direction. Once republicanism spreads its wings wide enough, no amount of resistance from other nations will stop the tide of the era."
There was nothing to worry about.
I conveyed that message — indirectly, but firmly.
Shifting from the tone of an old friend addressing another to the tone of a Demon Lord — the tone that permitted no refusal — I spoke.
"I have an urgent and private conversation to have with my adopted daughter. I will not tolerate interruption. Jacques Bonhomme — you will withdraw with the royal guard to the rear. You may draw your bows to threaten the enemy, but you are forbidden from launching any attack."
"Understood, Your Highness."
Zackry bowed his head and led the infantry and archers away.
Before long, the space before me opened up wide. In the distance, dust clouds rose. The distant clang of weapons striking weapons rang faintly through the air. I tapped the ground lightly with my cane. It lent the scene a strange rhythm.
And then — .
Daisy walked toward me from far away.
She was drenched in blood. Her maid's outfit had already been shredded into rags by sword blades and arrowheads. Bright red liquid — whether it was others' blood or her own, I couldn't tell — streamed from her body. She could barely hold herself upright now. The hand gripping the greatsword trembled slightly.
"…."
All of that.
She had fought this hard just to reach me.
I wanted to rush over and wrench the sword from her hands. I wanted to wrap both arms around her. But it wasn't time yet. I needed to hold back just a little longer, to deliver the final, critical blow.
Daisy stopped. She slowly looked around. Realizing that blood was obscuring her vision, she numbly rubbed her face. A little of the blood came away. Then Daisy looked this way.
"Ah…"
Sensing my presence, Daisy let out a faint smile.
It was the kind of smile I would have mistaken for mockery in the old days.
I waited a moment, giving Daisy the chance to speak first. But no matter how long I waited, she didn't part her lips. She seemed to have lost all sense of time. Too much blood had left her body.
I bit the inside of my lip. That forced my mouth into a sneer.
"…You've been reduced to nothing but rags. What a sorry sight you've become."
Only then did Daisy seem to feel time again.
The smile on Daisy's lips deepened. A deliberately crafted smile — a mask she had been forging and perfecting all this time for an audience of one. Daisy opened her mouth.
"I went through all of this, Father, to see you."