Weeding out Gamigin was merely something I'd dealt with on the side while I was at it.
In truth, it wasn't anything particularly impressive. I'd simply given a romance newbie what you might call a valuable learning experience. For Gamigin, the sight of me stabbing her in the abdomen would remain a trauma. The red pool of blood, the shattered glass on the floor, the moaning...
Even when she dated someone else in the future, the trauma would prevent her from ever trying to dominate her partner. In that sense, I'd done a great kindness to whoever ended up with Gamigin down the road. Truly, they say even good deeds become a nuisance when taken too far, and I was a perfect example of that.
"You're awake?"
When I woke up, Gamigin was acting her usual calm self. On the surface, nothing had changed. You had to hand it to Gamigin—her psyche must have been in extreme turmoil, yet she hid it well. Her facial acting was flawless.
I treated her as I normally would.
"Ugh...!"
But at breakfast, while eating soup, I suddenly clutched my abdomen as though in pain and grimaced. Gamigin was so startled that she dropped the silver spoon from her hand. Her face had gone completely white.
"It's nothing."
I forced an awkward smile, as though it had been wrung out of me.
"I'm fine, Lady Gamigin."
That was it.
For the rest of that entire day, Gamigin could never put her mask back on. The mask she had desperately crafted had been shattered beyond repair.
Surprisingly, at lunch, no table knives were set out. This was quite amusing—it seemed she'd developed a trauma toward sharp, blade-like objects. If this kept up, she'd be in real trouble if she ever ended up on a battlefield. Hahaha.
Later, I told Barbatos about this.
Barbatos was someone who knew my personality inside and out. There was no point hiding anything from him. Barbatos would casually bring up all sorts of disturbing stories too—like how humans would mercilessly slaughter their own parents at their children's hands over petty annoyances. You could say we were two of a kind.
"Tsk, tsk."
Barbatos clicked his tongue from the other side of the Magic Crystal Orb.
"I never thought there'd come a day in my life when I'd feel sorry for Gamigin. You really do live long enough to see everything."
"Right? To think she's never had a single sincere romance at that age. Honestly."
"…Well, fine. That's not the part I'm feeling sympathetic about, though."
Barbatos took a long drag on his cigarillo.
"One question. Don't you feel a bit guilty about tricking Gamigin?"
"Hm? Why? The fault lies with the one being deceived."
"…."
The expression on Barbatos's face at that moment was so bizarrely twisted it was beyond description in words.
I was being sincere. Considering Gamigin had personally slaughtered no fewer than ten thousand humans over his lifetime, who would split hairs over causing a little trauma to such a villain?
The one being deceived is the one at fault.
**Kunkuska Trading Company Headquarters.**
From the Demon Realm to the continent, there was no product they didn't handle and no customer they didn't trade with; the place was always overflowing with patrons. Small merchants haggled noisily with the company's representatives, creating a constant din.
The entrance was built in the style of an ancient republic, featuring a marble colonnade. Beyond it, a Gothic-style building towered majestically—it looked newly constructed. It was opulent enough to proudly claim the title of finest in the Demon Realm.
This was the primary purpose of my visit to Niflheim: to meet Ivar Lodbrok and face her true self.
However, there was a problem.
I had left Gamigin's villa in high spirits and arrived here successfully, but I had no idea how to actually meet Ivar Lodbrok. I had forgotten the Magic Crystal Orb that connected directly to her and left it back at the Demon Lord's Castle.
"Ah, going back to the Demon Lord's Castle now would be way too much of a hassle…"
I was in a bind.
If only there were an information desk or something, but all I could see before me was a sea of merchants. The geography was completely unfamiliar. It was almost funny—after hundreds of transactions with the Kunkuska Trading Company, I found their own headquarters utterly foreign.
What choice did I have?
I grabbed a passing company member at random and asked.
"Hey, you there. Could I ask you something? Where do I need to go to meet Ivar Lodbrok?"
"Excuse me?"
The company employee scanned me up and down with the look one gives a lunatic.
"…Tch, and I thought I'd seen it all."
He snorted derisively and went on his way.
Well, it didn't really bother me. He probably didn't know I was a Demon Lord. Unlike Barbatos or Paimon, my face wasn't known to the public. "Apparently there's a fellow who straddles between the Demon Lord Queens." That was the extent of my reputation, at best.
Unfazed, I grabbed someone else and asked.
"You there. I'm not too familiar with the area, so I have to ask — do you happen to know where Ivar Lodbrok is?"
"The exit is that way."
The employee politely pointed a finger toward the outside of the building. She then hurried off on her way.
Hmm.
"Ivar Lodbrok? You don't mean our Chairman, do you?"
"If you're going to lose your mind, at least do it gracefully. A fellow who looks perfectly sane… Tsk, tsk."
"I'm already busy enough — what kind of nonsense is this?!"
The same thing repeated dozens of times.
Each time, the employees would hurl insults at me or openly dismiss me. It wasn't hard to understand. To them, Ivar Lodbrok wasn't simply the CEO of the trading company. He was a god who had reigned over the trade world for centuries.
Imagine a tourist walking into St. Peter's Basilica and asking, "Excuse me, but where do I need to go to meet the Pope?" People would look at you with utter contempt. It was the same thing here. The only problem was that understanding something in your head and actually getting somewhere with it were two entirely different matters.
I stood in the middle of the bustling market like a solitary island.
"…What on earth am I supposed to do?"
Should I show them the horn on the back of my head and let them know I'm a Demon Lord? No — even so, there was a matter of dignity as a Demon Lord… Besides, for a Demon Lord, I only had a single horn, and it was incredibly small.
Among Demon Lords, horns were much like the size of a man's manhood. The bigger they were, the more awe they commanded; the smaller they were, the more they got looked down upon, whether anyone meant to or not. My horn was so tiny that my hair covered it completely—practically invisible.
"I don't want to show it off, either…"
There was nothing I could do.
I kept stopping traders and asking for directions, praying I'd get lucky and find someone kind. But not a single kind soul turned up—only ill-tempered louts. One of them went so far as to call the guards to have the madman chased out.
Three hulking orc guards lumbered over.
"Sir, you can't carry on like this here."
The one who looked highest in rank growled with surprisingly elegant diction, given his appearance. His broad, perfectly sculpted shoulders made it obvious at a glance that picking a fight with him would be a terrible idea.
"Listen here—I really did receive an invitation from Ivar Lodbrok, you know? I'm the Demon Lord."
"My, my. A guest who won't come to his senses no matter what you say. Escort him outside."
"Uh…"
I scratched my head.
"I know saying this probably won't help, but you're going to regret this real soon. I'm serious."
"Heh heh."
The orc guard bared his fangs and flashed a grin.
"I'd regret it if I *didn't* show a troublesome guest like you the door. Now then—I don't care for violence, so let's just walk out quietly, shall we? No hard feelings."
"Hmm."
If I really put my mind to it, I could invoke a Demon Lord's coercive authority and force my way through. But I didn't want to cause a scene. Barbatos was always telling me the same thing—please, for the love of all that is holy, maintain some dignity.
I wasn't on my own anymore. It sounded absurd, but it was the truth. I was the lover of Barbatos, Sitri, and Gamigin… If my reputation tanked, theirs would go down with it.
Imagine the rumors if a Demon Lord started throwing around authority over innocent citizens in the middle of a marketplace. The citizens of Niflheim weren't mindless monsters—they were Demonkin, a fully functioning society. On a battlefield where absolute obedience reigned, maybe things would be different, but acting recklessly in a place like this would drag the name of the Demon Lord through the mud.
"Fine, fine. I'll see myself out on my own two feet, so don't worry about it."
"Don't ever come back again."
I ended up plopping myself down on the fountain in front of the Trading Company's main headquarters, without any plan whatsoever.
I stared blankly at the city as sunset painted the sky.
A light breeze drifted through the city. Clotheslines strung between buildings like spider webs swayed gently.
Garments and blankets fluttered as though they had been blown about for ages before accidentally snagging here. Leaves and things that lived with one leg dangling in the air were all swept off to one side.
Those who could never set foot in the sky—and even if they did, only lifted their soles for a brief moment before stepping onto yet more ground—chatted with one another, worked, and headed home. From somewhere, a boy's voice rang out.
"Apples! Get your freshly picked apples!"
Another voice shouted.
"No, really, it was enormous!"
Clouds passed over the city. Shadows settled on the spires of buildings, the wide rooftops, and the street below. Soon the clouds moved on past the city. People lamented the loss of the cool shade. That was all. Their attention simply shifted back to whatever was pulling at their surroundings. It was clear that I, sitting quietly by the fountain, was no concern of theirs.
After about three hours like that, a luxurious carriage suddenly pulled to a stop right in front of me.
A man scrambled out of the carriage.
"Why, if it isn't Lord Dantalion!"
The man seized my hand, playing up the familiarity.
The sixty-eighth-ranked Demon Lord, Belial. His Demon Lord's Castle had nearly fallen to a human invasion before Barbatos saved it, and for that reason, he always treated me—Barbatos's lover—with exaggerated deference.
"Ah, Lord Belial. It's been a while."
I offered a faint smile.
Incidentally, I had my suspicions that this man was the one who had shoved the Leaf Adventure Party into my dungeon back in the day. There was no proof, so I had simply let it go.
"I never imagined I would run into you in a place like this. No—what business brings you to the marketplace, sitting here so calmly?"
"Haha. The truth is, I just got kicked out of the Trading Company."
"What?"
Belial's eyes went wide.
"Kicked out?"
"I had an appointment with the chairman of the Kunkuska Trading Company, but the staff here won't let me in because they don't know I'm the Demon Lord. Quite the predicament. I told them I'd be back by evening……."
Belial let out a strange "Ehhhh" sound.
"Well. You could just use force, couldn't you?"
"There are too many eyes on me, aren't there? I'd rather not have rumors spread in the wrong direction."
"That's true, I suppose……. Huh. You do run into some strange situations."
In the end, with Belial's help, I was able to reach the reception counter. It was the area reserved exclusively for VIP clients. The reason I couldn't find it was that it sat in the completely opposite direction from where I'd been standing.
"Thank you, Lord Belial."
"Oh, it's nothing……ha ha."
After dropping me off, Belial left.
I asked the attendant to summon Ivar Lodbrok, and before long an old man came down. It was a clone of Ivar Lodbrok. The fellow had underlings flanking him on both sides like some kind of mafia crew, and the moment he laid eyes on me, he bowed deeply at the waist.
"We humbly greet Your Great Eminence!"
I waved my hand.
"Yes, yes. You've all worked hard. I shall permit you to forgo the formalities."
"Your generosity is most gracious. However, Your Grace……I expected you to arrive a bit sooner……."
Ivar Lodbrok spoke with a somewhat troubled expression.
Although we hadn't set a precise meeting time, we had agreed to meet today all the same. The other party must have been stuck here all day with nowhere to go, waiting. It was certainly impolite. And his counterpart was the CEO of the Kunkuska Trading Company, no less.
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly.
"The truth is, I arrived about three or four hours ago."
"Huh? Why didn't you come up?"
"I was kicked out."
Ivar Lodbrok made the exact same expression Belial had worn just moments ago.
"I humbly beg your pardon, but I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean…?"
"The guards didn't recognize him as the Demon Lord and threw him out."
"…."
The temperature in the vicinity plummeted to below freezing in an instant.
"When I told them I was the Demon Lord, they called me a troublesome customer and hurled insults at me."
Ivar Lodbrok's face turned ashen, as though he had witnessed the end of the world.