The next day, a boulder the size of a small child stood upright at the top of Palatino Hill.
Strangely enough, the boulder was draped in a luxurious bolt of silk. Passersby couldn't help but glance at it — why on earth would an expensive bolt of silk be on top of a rock like that? A few even examined it closely, wondering whether it might not be an ordinary rock but some kind of sacred relic.
But no matter how they looked at it from every angle, it was just a plain old rock.
Perplexed, the people tilted their heads in unison.
"Why is this thing sitting in front of the Grand Duke's Hall?"
"Someone must've moved it here as a joke. Young people these days, I swear."
"Oh sure, like the granaries have so much silk lying around they can afford to play pranks. Don't go badmouthing the young just because wrinkle-lined faces have privilege, uncle."
The Grand Duke's Hall referred to the courthouse that had been built on Dantalion's orders.
The Demon Lord Dantalion called this place a courthouse, but as the villagers began gathering here more and more to settle disputes large and small, it naturally came to be known as the assembly hall. To distinguish it from the meeting hall back in the village, the residents simply called this place "the big house."
"There's a proclamation written on the silk!"
A small minority among the residents could read. They were humans born into landlord households. They recognized that there were words written on the fine bolt of silk.
"It says to move the boulder down the hill."
"Huh? Why would they go so far as to post a proclamation just to get someone to move a rock?"
"That's beyond me too…."
The man frowned as he read the rest of the silk.
"But it says whoever moves it gets awarded a hundred gold coins."
"A hundred gold coins?"
The residents fell silent for a moment, exchanging glances.
And then they smirked.
"So it was a joke after all. See, what did I tell you?"
"It's the classic setup — get someone to fall for it and they'll be laughed out of the room. Obvious, isn't it?"
"Let's go inside already."
If they had taken the words written on the silk at face value and strained themselves to move the boulder, they would have been mercilessly mocked for taking such nonsense seriously. They would have wasted their energy for nothing and spent the next few days as the butt of every drinking joke in the village.
The residents dismissed the little episode and entered the Grand Duke's hall. After the assembly ended, people filed back out through the entrance. The chunk of stone still sat there, right where it had been left.
"Even so, this is a place the Demon Lord himself created — what kind of lunatic puts a prank right at the entrance!"
The people scowled.
"Hey, old man Parsi. You should have cleared this ages ago — why did you just leave it here all this time?"
"Don't call me old man, you old goat. Looking at a seventeen-year-old young man and calling him old man — the nerve."
Parsi came walking out behind the crowd from the Grand Duke's hall. The people snickered.
"If His Lordship has bestowed a title on you, then you're an old man regardless of age. Seventeen, my foot — look at that mug of yours, does that look like a face of seventeen? You've already lived a whole lifetime, you old codger."
"Oh, get lost. I'll find myself a proper woman this year, you'll see."
The people laughed even louder.
"Oh my, listen to that. A big, lumbering bear of a man like you thinks he can get married?"
"Ah, I said get lost!"
Parsi growled.
If you crossed Parsi, he was the sort of man who would bury an axe in the village chief's skull — but on ordinary days, he was nothing more than a bachelor who made for easy teasing. Besides, most of the people knew exactly which young lady Parsi harbored feelings for, and just how hopeless the bachelor's romance truly was.
Parsi was in love with none other than the wife of the great Demon Lord himself, Laura de Farnese. He had fallen for her at first sight.
Whether by looks or by station, such a love could never come to fruition. The beautiful golden-haired lady was also the one who had recently introduced new laws across the entire territory. It was clear even to the residents that she was not the kind of person who would simply till fields like a farmer's wife.
The residents whispered to each other, hiding their murmurs behind their laughter.
"Even if he's a fool, can other women really catch his eye after his heart's been stolen by such a beautiful lady?"
"Tsk, tsk. He's the village chief's right-hand man and has the Demon Lord's trust to boot. If he'd only lower his standards a little, he could take his pick. And here he is, kicking away his own good fortune…"
The villagers put their heads together and sighed in unison. That man was beyond saving.
"My wife actually saw the Demon Lord and that golden-haired lady going at it in a remote wheat field! They said those two were made for each other — and I mean made for each other. There's absolutely no hope for him."
"I'd heard the rumors, but I thought it couldn't possibly be true."
"Oh, it's true, all right. I saw it myself. Our Lord can be quite the passionate one, ha!"
The residents snickered among themselves. They placed bets on whether Parsi would manage to get married within five years or if it would take seven. Hope, for Parsi — that grizzled stand-in lord — was a distant and wistful thing…
"Parsi. Anyway, could you get rid of that ugly hunk of rock? What's it doing in front of the Grand Duke's Hall? If you need a hand, we can help out right now."
"I don't know what you all think, but—"
Parsi shrugged his shoulders.
"That wasn't put there on a whim. It's a proper installation, placed by the Demon Lord himself."
"Say what?"
The villagers' faces scrunched up even more.
"I mean, what was His Lordship thinking…"
"How would I know everything that goes on in the Demon Lord's head?"
Parsi replied with a sigh in his voice.
"I was told to bring it and set it there, so that's what I did. Damned thing — I was hauling rocks that had nothing to do with my job from before dawn. Thought my back was going to snap in two."
"An overworked back like that needs to be taken care of, you know. Honestly."
"Damn it. You lot get a kick out of teasing me or what?"
"It was sweeter than honey, I tell you."
As the crowd laughed, several people fell into serious contemplation.
From the perspective of the territory's residents, the Demon Lord Dantalion may not have been a benevolent ruler, but he was certainly a wise one. There were certainly oddities — he would sometimes carry on shameless acts with a lover in the wheat fields, or as a lord, personally work the soil — all manner of peculiar habits.
But when it came to governing the territory, he always maintained both discipline and prudence. Discipline meant that the lord never went back on a word once spoken before the people. Prudence meant that he could read the times and circumstances, tempering his rule with flexibility.
For example, Dantalion had thoroughly kept his promise to collect no taxes.
They had even been prepared to shrug off whatever nuisance taxes might appear — utility fees, special levies, and the like. After all, most of them were children of people who had fled from other territories. Tyranny was nothing new to them.
It wasn't tyranny that was the problem — it was merely the degree of tyranny. That was the only question in such times.
In this regard, Dantalion had been firmly etched into people's minds as a lord of discipline. Our lord doesn't speak empty words. When the lord says he'll do something, he does it. That was how they perceived him.
'Come to think of it, His Grace probably...'
'Yes. It seems like he has something in mind.'
The seasoned elders exchanged a silent conversation through their eyes.
They nodded. His Grace, the Demon Lord, had something he was keeping in his thoughts. That much was all they needed to know. Figuring out exactly what that was felt beyond their station. And honestly, was there even a need to know?
Unlike the elders, who took a step or two back from life's affairs, a certain young man stepped boldly forward.
"If His Grace guarantees it, then that changes things a bit."
The young man's name was Yamer. He was the second son of a landowner's household.
As second sons often did in this era, Yamer had received no farmland from his parents. Instead, he had entered one of the tenant plots where Dantalion had set a thirty-percent tax rate.
'All thanks to His Grace.'
The young man was grateful to Dantalion, who had created an opportunity for second sons like himself. Having always harbored such feelings, the fact that His Grace the Demon Lord had personally given the order meant he had to step forward, no matter how it might look to others — like a joke or not.
"Step aside. I'll do it."
"Hm? No, surely moving one stone block wouldn't require platinum."
The majority of people, not yet reading the room, tilted their heads in confusion.
Yammer didn't truly believe he'd receive platinum either. He simply figured that since the Demon Lord himself had issued the proclamation, it was only proper to comply.
"Of course it's not empty words from His Highness. At the very least, he'll give us the silk draped around the rock. That alone would be worth it for me."
"Well, true enough…"
"If it's just silk, sure."
The crowd nodded in agreement.
Some even began eyeing the rock with greedy looks, since even the silk alone was worth a considerable sum. But Yammer had claimed first mover advantage, so the others could only lick their lips in disappointment.
"Hngh… hup!"
With everyone watching, Yammer hoisted the boulder with all his might. It was extraordinarily heavy.
"Hagh…! Parsi. Down the hill—is anywhere fine?"
"He didn't specify a location, so do as you please."
"All right! The world's strongest man, Yammer, sets forth!"
Yammer trudged his way down the hill.
The people followed him, eager for the spectacle. The council was over anyway and they all had to return to their respective villages, but more than that, they were curious what sort of game the Demon Lord had cooked up. Yammer's arms and legs trembled mid-stride, and he barely managed to keep walking.
"Ha! A farmer calling himself strong—what a joke!"
"Uuuugh! He's slowed to a crawl! World's strongest? More like world's slowest!"
The domain folk jeered with relish. The veins on Yammer's forehead bulged, but his face had gone completely red from the weight of the boulder. He had no energy left to fire complaints back at them.
"GRAAAGH! Oof, my aching bones!"
Four minutes later, Yammer reached the bottom of the hill. He set the boulder down with a heavy thud, then collapsed flat on his back right where he stood.
"That thing is insanely heavy!"
"Would you look at him—flat on the ground after lifting one teensy little rock."
"Who knows if he'll even have the strength to properly satisfy his wife with a body like that."
Just as the villagers were roaring with laughter—
Two men in law enforcement attire approached from the small watchtower atop the hill, where they'd been observing everything. They were the very assassins who had followed Jeremy to this place. The villagers knew that law enforcement officers were typically exceptional martial artists, so they tensed up somewhat. What was going on?
One of the officers, whose pointed ears marked him as an elf, produced an ornately decorated box.
"Who was the person that moved the boulder?"
"Th-that would be me."
Yammer scrambled to his feet in a hurry.
The officer declared in a loud voice:
"Hear me, all of you! In fulfillment of the proclamation issued in the name of Dantalion, and in accordance with the promise made, I hereby bestow upon this man one hundred gold coins."
"W-wha… yes…?"
"This is a reward granted by His Excellency the Demon Lord. Please receive it with proper respect."
The dazed look in Yammer's eyes snapped to life.
He held out his swollen palms, rough from moving the stone. The officer respectfully handed over the box. It was a chest the size of a torso. Every single villager gathered here knew that selling this box alone would fetch several gold coins.
"So, this is… I mean…"
*Gulp.*
Yammer swallowed hard. With an expression of firm resolve, he opened the box decisively.
Inside, a truly dazzling pile of gold coins gleamed back at him.
"HUUUH!?"
Yammer screamed involuntarily. Was this a dream or reality?
The villagers, following Yammer's lead, screamed as if they'd formed a choir. Even the elders, who had been waiting placidly to see what would happen, forgot their ages and let out shrill, piercing shrieks. They were gold coins. Gold coins that farmers from this backwater village had never even laid eyes on, stacked as high as a hill!