That was the day all the Demon Lords gathered.
All the Demon Lords — that sounded grand when said aloud, but in truth, the numbers were not that impressive. Thirty-one. A mere thirty-one. The Demon Lord army, which had once boasted a glorious seventy-two, had been scattered to the winds, and now fewer than half remained.
Compared to those days, you could hardly even call their current state a decline. It was not merely a matter of numbers. Bael, once hailed as the most powerful and formidable of all Demon Lords, was dead. Agares, too. The quality of the Demon Lord army had plummeted beyond measure……
And yet, the Demon Lord army had entered an unprecedented golden age — the greatest it had known in three thousand years of history.
Support for the newly formed Demon Lord army among demonkind was at its peak. The humans of the continent submitted to the majesty of the Demon Lord army with unspoken obedience. The Demon Lord army, which had once exercised dominion only over the Black Mountains region, now extended its reach across the entirety of the central continent — westward to the Kingdom of Bretagne, southward to the Kingdom of Sardinia, and eastward to the Kingdom of Polithunia.
The Demon Lord army, weakened to a degree never before seen in history.
Paradoxically, it had ushered in a golden age without precedent.
"……Has Lord Marbas not arrived yet……"
"His Excellency Gamigin will be here shortly……"
The Demon Lords murmured among themselves. Their whispers echoed softly against the dome-shaped ceiling. At the apex of the dome, a circular opening had been cut through, and through it, a sliver of moonlight fell alongside the night air. There was no proper illumination to speak of — only that cool, pale blue moonlight.
"Does anyone actually know what exactly is going to happen today……"
"……Unfortunately, I have no reliable information……"
The Demon Lords had buried half their bodies in the darkness. Yet not a single one complained. Demon Lords were innately gifted with night vision, and they preferred to chatter in dim places rather than bright ones.
At the very center of the building where the moonlight fell stood a glass case.
A woman with red hair lay inside, as though she were merely sleeping.
This was Paimon's resting place — a chamber constructed within the imperial palace solely for her sake. There, the Demon Lords exchanged idle conversation while barely looking at one another's faces. In the murky void, every outline was indistinct, and only the faintly shifting movement of lips was barely discernible.
"……."
That was when something wrapped around my right hand. I turned my head, and Barbatos was gripping it firmly. He murmured quietly.
"……Don't turn around, Bobting-ah. The others will notice."
"I went and acted without tact again."
I murmured a small reply in kind, then turned my gaze back as though nothing had happened. Across the room, eleven Mountain Faction Demon Lords had gathered, Sitri among them. They whispered to one another, occasionally nodding, occasionally glancing our way.
"You won't regret choosing me. Dantalion. I'll make sure of it."
"Now that's a bold promise."
I smiled faintly.
Both Vassago and Gamigin had been won over, each for different reasons. Vassago had weighed option after option before finally making his decision. Gamigin, on the other hand, had practically bounced with joy, exclaiming "Of course, of course I'll do it!" The two of them now stood separated in opposite corners of the building, leaning quietly against the walls.
"......"
My eyes happened to meet Vassago's. He glanced at the sight of my hand clasped with Barbatos's, scrunched up his face as though he'd seen something he really shouldn't have, and quickly looked away.
"Heh."
Vassago's mind was practically readable, and I let out a small laugh.
I could feel myself growing more and more perfect.
Whether I'd always had the talent or whether the extreme circumstances of being abandoned alone in this absurd world had awakened something inside me, I couldn't say for certain — but when it came to politics, my mind was growing sharper by the day. Far from dulling, it was getting more vivid and keen with each passing moment, like a freshly blooded kitchen knife.
The gazes and expressions others adopted spoke to me directly. What they feared, and how I could leverage that fear to steer things in the direction I wanted — I dared say I knew it all.
If there was a downside, though...
The glances and gestures I had stored in my mind — or rather, that had been stored there — would occasionally replay on their own right before my eyes.
It was a secret I had told no one. Not even Laura knew. Not even Lapis, who shared every secret with me. And Daisy — who prided herself on having me completely figured out — naturally didn't know about this either.
— You son of a bitch.
A voice muttered through the empty air. It was an auditory hallucination.
Dark places like this inn were especially dangerous. In well-lit areas, hallucinations of that sort rarely surfaced. But when my vision grew distant — when the landscape of some far-off place unfolded before me — they came quite readily.
— Anything wrong with that body of yours? Huh?
— You'll be the last.
— That's a lie……why…….
Either way, this kind of place was poison to me.
Without any context at all, at roughly twenty- to thirty-second intervals, the voice repeated itself as if whispering right into my ear. As I always did when the hallucinations came, I pulled a cigarette from inside my coat and put it between my lips.
"Phew."
Beyond the thin plumes of smoke, a scene appeared — far vaguer than the hallucinations themselves. How should I put it. I didn't feel like I was "seeing" it at all. The feeling of "it was simply being shown to me" was far stronger. My brain had gone haywire and was putting on its own little performance, and I watched it unfold in leisurely silence.
It was quite a ridiculous sight. People had gathered in a dark corner, some distance from the glass cases in the morgue, murmuring and laughing and chattering among themselves in hushed voices.
Their laughter dissolved into the air along with glittering motes of dust. Half the air was bathed in moonlight seeping through the roof; the other half lay submerged in shadow. Up to that point, it was perfectly fine. But when those people were wearing Leif's face, Hawke's face, Jack's face, and so on — that was a different matter entirely.
Acting up again today, I see.
It was truly nothing of consequence. There had been a time I once pretended to be mad and tried to speak to "them." Naturally, not a single answer came back.
Even straining my ears, what they babbled about was, as I said before, completely devoid of any logic. Occasionally a shadow wearing Jack's face would converse in Elizabeth's voice. It was, in the most literal sense, utter madness.
Which was to say, they did not exist.
They were neither real nor substantial.
They were like the deep footprints sunk into the path I had walked thus far — in the same way that, while walking, you can only place one foot in front of the other, yet when you finally turn around, every footprint you left behind appears all at once in a long line, those shadows too merely unfurled simultaneously, no more and no less.
Every now and then, seeing them like that, you might almost feel as though they were alive — as though life itself were a privilege belonging only to them.
But that would be nothing more than delusion.
I was alive.
"……Dantalion?"
Look. Even now, I could feel the soft skin of Barbatos against my right hand.
I smiled gently.
"It's because I'm anxious."
"Oh? Since when do you go around whining like that?"
"On days like this, even I feel like putting on a little show of weakness."
Barbatos squeezed my hand even tighter.
"Try showing weakness more often when you can. Your grotesque face might even start looking a little cute, you never know. Who knows? I might even serve you a bit more in bed."
"Ahem. Ahem hem..."
Behind me, Brother Zepar cleared his throat. That was more or less what he meant. Barbatos pouted her lips in displeasure. I let out a small laugh without thinking.
It was around then that a group of Neutral Faction Demon Lords entered the assembly hall. Marbas led the way, striding in with five Neutral Faction Demon Lords in tow. Marbas first locked eyes with Barbatos, then met my gaze, before planting himself at the entrance of the assembly hall.
Mountain Faction: eleven.
Plains Faction: nine.
Neutral Faction: six.
Independent: five.
With that, all thirty-one Demon Lords had assembled.
"Quite an unsuitable venue for holding Walpurgis Night, I must say."
Marbas spoke up.
"I will not stand by and allow any disturbances to take place before the dearly departed. Anti-magic has already been deployed throughout the imperial palace, but I have personally taken the trouble to impose a ban on magic here as well. I sincerely ask that all comrades gathered today be more mindful of their words and actions than usual."
The Demon Lords did not respond aloud, but the general atmosphere was one of agreement. Marbas gave a single nod.
"Then, as chairman, I hereby declare this gathering—Walpurgis Night—in session. By tradition, the role of chairman falls to Court Count Dantalion, however..."
Marbas looked at me.
"Given that the agenda items to be discussed today are extremely sensitive, I will serve as acting chairman for tonight only. This has been unanimously approved beforehand by all six Demon Lords holding voting rights, and I am hereby duly granted the right to conduct proceedings, the right to grant speaking rights and the right to cut off speakers, the right to put agenda items to a vote, and the right to postpone and dissolve the meeting. Do the five Electors agree to entrust all such rights to me?"
"I agree."
"I'll agree as well."
Barbatos, Sitri, Gamigin, Zepar, and Vassago answered in order.
Marbas nodded his chin.
"Very well. Then let Sitri, who proposed convening Walpurgis Night, speak first."
"My demand."
Sitri stepped forward.
"No—our Mountain Faction's demand is simple. Those who already know will know, but the day before yesterday, we executed Demon Lord Belial."
"A Demon Lord punishing another Demon Lord without authorization is strictly prohibited."
Marbas rebuked sternly.
"If any Demon Lord had committed wrongdoing, it should have been brought to the agenda of Walpurgis Night, and the matter of whether to punish that Demon Lord—and if punishment were to be carried out, then how it should be carried out—should have been discussed in detail. Sitri. Why did you bypass proper procedure and execute Belial?"
"Yes. I was in the wrong."
Sitri said, her expression unchanged.
"But—what if I can't trust Walpurgis Night itself?"
"What do you mean?"
"It means there was someone who deliberately orchestrated Belial to betray our faction."
The Demon Lords murmured among themselves. Marbas raised his eyebrows and surveyed the room. At that, the Demon Lords fell silent. Marbas turned his gaze back to Sitri.
"Who was it, Sitri. I'll say this in advance—you cannot accuse someone based on suspicion alone. Surely you don't intend to shift the blame for Belial's killing onto someone else without any evidence."
"Of course. We have more than just suspicion—we have proper evidence and witnesses as well."
Sitri replied flatly.
"But what we want isn't to find the culprit and punish them more harshly than necessary."
"Then what?"
"We want a 'sincere' apology."
Sitri glared this way—at the spot where the Plains Faction's Demon Lords stood.
"Before we have to point it out, we want the other party to come forward and bow their heads. To us. And to sister Paimon, who lies sleeping here."
That was precisely why he had proposed holding the meeting in Paimon's resting chamber.
"The person who made Belial betray the faction and secretly pass on our information—stepping forward to apologize of their own accord. Promising that this will never happen again. That's all we want. I'd consider it a very mild request."
"......"
Silence settled over the surroundings.
No one dared to make a sound. Marbas, too, remained quiet as though content to wait. About a minute passed like that.
"Ah. I understand, Sitri."
Footsteps echoed.
"The apology. I'll make it."
The Demon Lord with white hair.
The ruler of the Plains Faction—Barbatos took a step toward the glass coffin.