Silence.
Marbas, looking weary, wiped his monocle with a handkerchief. Barbatos picked at the cake laid out on one side of the ballroom with his fork, then let out a small chuckle. The other Demon Lords silently marveled at the extraordinary spectacle the old goblin had orchestrated — as though an audience momentarily held its breath after a breathtaking concert piece ended.
"A… Aaah…?"
Paimon.
Paimon collapsed to her knees beside the corpse.
"A… a, aaah…"
She let out intermittent sounds, something between a moan and a voice. Like the mechanical noise lingering at the edge of a broken speaker.
What had befallen her was something inconceivable just an hour ago. I felt no sympathy, no tenderness. Fortune, after all, is always swift to leave, while misfortune is never in a hurry to arrive.
I was simply preoccupied with figuring out how to untangle the mess now that Thorkel had taken the blame for everything and killed himself.
That Thorkel — he had been cunning with his words.
*'Lord Dantalion and I had a small connection.'*
He began by narrating things that were actually true. That we had met because of the Black Death affair, that there had been a minor clash of wills involving Lapis. All of it was genuine. By not uttering a single lie from the very start, he secured the Demon Lords' trust right out of the gate.
Once he had their trust, everything flowed smoothly from there.
*'Lord Dantalion's refusal dealt a deep blow to my pride as a merchant. And so I resolved to take revenge against Lord Dantalion. …In any case, I determined that some form of retribution was necessary.'*
He had been stating facts, but somewhere along the way he shifted into describing his psychology. Wounded pride, resolve — it was all psychological. Yes, Thorkel had probably truly felt his pride wounded. But what did that matter?
He was a merchant who had lived for centuries. Regardless of what emotions he felt, he was capable of rational action. What you feel and how you behave are separate matters. And yet, rather than presenting the position of the Kunkuska Trading Company as a whole, he spun a thoroughly personal narrative — as though that were the cause of this entire incident.
The crowning touch was the phrase 'some form of retribution.' What on earth was 'some form,' and what was 'in any case'? He had seamlessly slipped from concrete words into the most abstract ones, sliding past like a snake over a fence.
*'All of this was a scheme I carried out alone. I personally bore a grudge against Lord Dantalion, and I acted to cause him harm. It was also I who leaked information about our client, Lord Dantalion, to Lord Paimon.'*
To top it off, he intelligently said he had 'carried it out' alone — not that he had 'planned it' alone. Well, one person could do the actual execution. Even if multiple people had been involved in the planning, a single executor was all it took!
Thorquel's rhetoric was as follows.
First, he disguised himself as truthful by stating facts.
Second, he would then begin describing his psychology while still making the other party feel as though he were stating facts.
Third, and finally, he muddled the factual basis with vague words.
"……Perfect."
The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. The sly merchant had exploited that sliver of time to perfectly deceive dozens of Demon Lords.
The finishing touch was suicide. Had he allowed even the possibility of interrogation, the truth he had vaguely buried might have been exposed — so he removed any chance of interrogation by dying. I couldn't help but admire it.
Any person would naturally be flustered by an unexpected situation. Would the 9th-ranked Demon Lord have ever imagined being outmaneuvered by the 71st-ranked Demon Lord? And yet, Thorquel had calmly figured out exactly how to minimize the damage and carried it out without hesitation. — The entire Kunkuska Trading Company's failure became his personal failure. Paimon's blunder became a scheme orchestrated by a mere merchant.
Could he have calculated that his life was a fair price for pulling off such a ruse?
So this is one of the greatest merchants in the Demon Realm.
If the one I had to face from the beginning had been Thorquel instead of Paimon……I would never have won so easily.
'Fine.'
Whatever the case with Paimon, I had to pay my respects to the Goblin.
It was a shame I couldn't claim a perfect victory, but somewhere deep down, I wanted to let the Goblin's desperate stratagem stand. The Kunkuska Trading Company and Paimon were forces overwhelmingly more powerful than me. Pushing too hard would only invite retaliation — that was the logic I used to convince myself.
"I shall execute the judgment."
Marbas spoke in a tone as if he were about to sit down for dinner.
"This hearing, requested by the 9th-ranked Demon Lord of Destruction, Paimon, and approved under my name — Marbas, the 5th-ranked Demon Lord of Dominion — addressed two matters."
The flat voice carried to every corner of the ballroom. Despite its low pitch, every word from Marbas came through clearly. In the meantime, Paimon still sat dazedly beside the corpse.
"The first matter concerns the 72nd-ranked Demon Lord of Fear, Andromalius. On the charge of murdering Andromalius, Paimon has requested a three-hundred-year imprisonment sentence against the 71st-ranked Demon Lord of the Underworld, Dantalion. In keeping with ancient tradition, the question of whose position is correct shall be decided by vote."
Marbas swept his gaze across the room.
"Those who believe Dantalion is guilty, raise your right hand."
I didn't bother to turn my head or check my surroundings. Acting so nervously would only make me look small in their eyes. I waited silently, filled with conviction.
After about ten seconds, Marbas nodded.
"Zero votes. On the first matter, I declare Dantalion not guilty."
Not even a spark of joy surfaced. This was simply the expected result.
What mattered wasn't the victory itself, but how overwhelmingly I had won.
The voting results would implicitly translate into support for me. Whether the Demon Lords present held personal Affinity for me or not, anyone who might consider hostile action in the future would have to keep the hearing's outcome in mind. To them, I would be remembered as a Demon Lord backed by overwhelming support from the other Demon Lords.
Marbas continued speaking.
"The second matter concerns the Black Death. Paimon has identified Dantalion as the one who caused and spread the Black Death. Those who believe this is the truth, raise your right hand."
Another ten seconds passed.
Marbas opened his mouth.
"Zero votes."
The corners of my lips lifted slightly.
Perfect! I had achieved the optimal result.
From now on, I no longer needed to worry about picking a fight with the other Demon Lords. This applied not only to those seated here, but also to those who were absent.
What would they think upon hearing that the 71st-ranked Demon Lord had defeated the 9th-ranked? Would they assume the 71st was so exceptionally powerful that the 9th didn't stand a chance?
The probability of that was low.
The higher a Demon Lord's rank, the more immense their pride in their own strength. They would look elsewhere for the reason Paimon—one of similar or even higher rank—had lost. Perhaps another Demon Lord had helped.
They would interpret this entire incident politically, as a power play between high-ranking Demon Lords. If rumors spread that Barbatos had approached me during the recess of the hearing, that would be even better!
Barbatos had approached me with the intention of protecting me from potential retaliation. But who was to say how that would appear in the eyes of the other Demon Lords? They might recall the ancient enmity between Paimon and Barbatos, and perhaps even suspect that this entire affair had been orchestrated by Barbatos from the shadows...
The Subtle Strategy of Half-Truths and Suspicion.
While the Demon Lords fretted over my nonexistent backing, I could safely focus on developing my dungeon.
I'd come to Niflheim expecting nothing more than a relaxing getaway, only to unexpectedly gain a fine shield. All thanks to Paimon's grandstanding — so much so that I was almost starting to feel a flicker of goodwill toward her. Almost. That was a joke.
"......"
Paimon stared at Thorkell's face with vacant eyes. She seemed to have lost even the strength to moan.
Beside her, Marbas — serving as presiding judge — brought the verdict to a close in a manner somewhat detached, yet perfectly befitting him.
"Regarding the second matter, Dantalion is hereby declared not guilty."
Someone clapped. I turned my head to find Barbatos applauding with her small, pale hands. Two or three others followed suit. Before long, more than half of the Demon Lords were clapping.
I bowed once in each direction to show my gratitude. Applauding onlookers, a corpse sprawled at the center of the ballroom, a woman slumped beside it, and a man offering his bow — the composition had a certain peculiar quality to it. I wondered if victorious gladiators in the Colosseum of ancient Rome had felt something similar.
"Now, we shall deliberate the punishment Paimon is to receive."
"Lord Marbas. I would like to say a word regarding that matter."
I took a step forward.
"You may speak."
"I am grateful. Though I was unjustly accused, as you all witnessed, Lady Paimon was merely deceived by a Kunkuska Trading Company merchant. There is no fault on her part."
"Oh?" Marbas showed a flicker of interest.
"You mean to say..."
"Yes. As the party involved in this hearing, I humbly request that no punishment be imposed upon Lady Paimon. After all, we are gathered here for the sacred Walpurgis Night. Surely punishment would only tarnish the festive atmosphere?"
I put on my most amiable smile.
Murmurs rose from the Demon Lords around me. The mood was one of surprise. Still, no voices of objection could be heard. I — the very person who had been reported — was the one advocating for leniency, so what could bystanders possibly say? In the far corner, I noticed Lady Barbatos pursing her lips in apparent displeasure, which tugged at me slightly. But when no notification of her Affinity dropping appeared, I figured it was fine.
'Demon Lord Marbas's Affinity increases by 12.'
'Yes.'
I mentally cheered. This was exactly what I was aiming for. Though it hadn't been long at all, I'd learned enough to know that old man Marbas took traditional events quite seriously. No matter how cool and nonchalant he tried to act on the outside, he couldn't possibly be happy about an event he'd personally spearheaded getting derailed by a hearing out of nowhere. He'd let that sentiment slip here and there during the proceedings.
The 9th ranked couldn't be ignored when he made a demand, the event still had to go on… and the person at the center of it all — me — had suggested forgetting the whole hearing and focusing on the event instead. It was like water on parched earth.
"So be it. I accept Dantalion's proposal — there will be no punishment. I am personally grateful for your magnanimity, Dantalion."
Sure enough, he took the bait.
In the eyes of everyone else, Dantalion was no longer a lowly 71st-ranked nobody — he was a figure backed by two high-ranking Demon Lords, Barbatos and Marbas. I could practically hear the sound of my survival odds climbing.
"However, even if Paimon bears no fault, that does not mean she can escape all responsibility."
Marbas spoke in a noticeably lighter tone.
"Paimon, apologize to Dantalion right here and now."
Until that moment, Paimon had been sitting still like a doll. Her shoulder flinched.
"A……pology……?"
"That is correct."
"……."
Paimon pressed her hands against the floor.
She tried to rise but failed.
"Lies…… Torkel couldn't have……"
"You too must have read the Goblin's emotions. There is not the slightest doubt that she deceived you."
"……Did she……betray the young lady?"
"Mm."
Paimon looked up at me.
Given her condition, that level of gesture seemed to be the best she could manage.
"……G-guilty?"
"Yes. Your Highness Paimon."
I spoke.
"I have neither created the Black Death nor intentionally spread it."
"……."
Paimon froze.
Time passed — it felt like a moment, yet also an eternity — before she parted her lips.
"……Guilty……I……"
Her voice was excessively small. Anyone could tell what she was saying just from her expression alone. But apparently she felt it wasn't enough, because she spoke aloud repeatedly.
"I'm……sorry……"
"……."
"I'm sorry……I'm sorry……"
Drops of water fell onto the marble floor. Paimon repeated the same words over and over again. Then, swaying unsteadily, she barely managed to rise to her feet and stumbled out of the ballroom without any energy. A werewolf who rushed over halfway to support her was most likely Paimon's dance partner.
A strange silence pressed down on the air.
Marbas lightly clapped his hands.
"There have been many twists and turns, but tonight's occasion — the Walpurgis Night — remains unchanged."
In that instant, the ballroom shrouded in a dim veil of darkness suddenly brightened. The innumerable chandeliers hanging from the ceiling blazed with brilliant white light. All manner of instruments flew in from somewhere, hovering in midair as they began to play by themselves.
The Demon Lords burst out laughing at the sudden shift in atmosphere. As though they had already forgotten the silence from moments ago, they chattered about Paimon's pathetic apology. The disgraceful spectacle put on by a high-ranking Demon Lord was more than enough to whip up the mood of the ball.
I, too, let go of my tension.
There was still quite a lot left to do — bluffing Ivar into submission, punishing the Kunkuska Trading Company's transgressions, drawing out a bit more Affinity from Marbas and Barbatos, and so on —.
But the first thing I chose to do was approach Lapis, who was standing by one of the ballroom pillars, watching me with a worried expression.
I waved playfully toward Lapis.
"Hey there."
"......"
"Sorry for leaving you stuck against the wall after going through the trouble of bringing you as my partner. You'll forgive me, right?"
Lapis seemed to be deliberating over what to say. Her face bore no expression, but by now I could read it with my eyes closed. She cycled through joy, anger, and contemplation — countless shifts in emotion within a matter of seconds — before finally making up her mind.
Lapis bowed politely at the waist.
"Well done."
she said.
There was no exaggeration whatsoever, and it was beautiful precisely because there was none. The faint stirring of emotion I felt right now was undoubtedly my own. I reached out with one hand and ruffled Lapis's hair, then stroked it gently.
And with that, the hearing came to an end.