"Are you saying that our trading company's guards escorted Your Majesty out?"
Ivar Lodbrok's voice was trembling. I smiled.
"Oh, no, there's no need to be so apologetic—"
"We have committed a grave offense!"
Before I could even finish my sentence, Ivar Lodbrok threw himself prostrate on the ground. He literally pressed all five points of his body against the floor. At the same time, the entourage surrounding Ivar Lodbrok followed suit, bowing in unison. That was roughly a dozen Demonkin kneeling before me all at once.
"We have committed a grave offense!"
"We have committed a grave offense!"
That wasn't all.
The employee training had been so thorough that even the trading company staff, who hadn't heard a single word of our exchange, began prostrating themselves one after another. Like dominoes toppling over, every Demonkin within a radius of several dozen meters from me dropped to their knees.
It was an absolutely staggering sight.
"W-What?"
"What is going on?"
Customers and merchants who had come from elsewhere looked over at us in bewilderment as the trading company employees suddenly began bowing.
"……."
I sighed inwardly.
Right. Ivar Lodbrok, you old fox who's seasoned in politics!
When the guards had escorted me out, I'd cooperated meekly and withdrawn without a fuss. Naturally. I had been planning to wage a war without swords against Ivar Lodbrok from that point on. And here was an opportunity to pin even a sliver of the blame onto the other party.
Forgetting to bring the Magic Crystal Orb had been my mistake. But by turning that mistake to my advantage, I could shift the blame onto them.
At that moment, Ivar Lodbrok had acted with lightning speed the instant he heard what happened.
Niflheim was the only neutral city in the Demon Realm, and Ivar Lodbrok was one of the magnates who ruled it. He held a loftier standing than most Demon Lords. And yet that very man had offered the most abject apology before all his subordinates.
"...What fault could any of you possibly have committed?"
Naturally, I had no choice but to accept the apology.
"I have no cause to forgive you either. Set the matter aside and rise."
I had been about to say it was fine, but the other party had seized the initiative first.
Well, it wasn't as though he was the sort of man who would stumble so easily into such a low-quality trap... More to the point, what on earth had he trained his employees with, that they were kowtowing without a single murmur of protest? They weren't normal either.
"Absolutely not, Your Excellency. Rudeness is not something that vanishes simply because one has been forgiven."
Ivar Lodbrok spoke with his forehead still pressed to the floor.
"I shall have those who committed such unforgivable crimes seized and beheaded immediately!"
I furrowed my brow. Good grief. He was really going to tighten every last screw, wasn't he?
Just moments ago, I had said, "I have no cause to forgive you either." That was a deliberately ambiguous statement. It meant: I'll let this matter slide this time, but I will certainly not forget it. I had intended to place a psychological burden on Ivar Lodbrok.
The other party had caught on to this and immediately fired back with, "Just punish us! Severely!" In other words, the brief exchange between the two of us over the span of a few seconds could be translated as follows:
'Your subordinate wronged me. What are you going to do about it?'
"I'm sorry. Please forgive us."
"I can't forgive you, but I'll let it go for now, out of respect for you."
"If you can't forgive us, then simply hand down a punishment and be done with it here."
He was saying he'd rather die than owe me an emotional debt. Crafty bastard.
What reason would I have to beat up an Orc security guard? It would only ruin my reputation. The rumor mill would churn out tales of how Dantalion, that Demon Lord, had a heart as narrow as a dried-up fish bladder. Naturally, I ought to forgive him magnanimously.
"Listen. There is a tale that has been passed down among the sages since long ago."
Of course, I had absolutely zero intention of stepping aside peacefully — not even a speck of dirt wedged under a crow's claw's worth.
"Once, there was a kingdom so bountiful and peaceful that a minister from a neighboring land ventured there in disguise to learn its ways. Indeed, the voices of the people praising their sovereign never ceased — a sure sign that governance was being carried out properly."
"……?"
The sudden invocation of a parable created a murmuring of confusion in the air. I employed the same tone I used to deliver speeches back in Frank, slowly drawing the mood over to my side.
"The minister grew curious and posed a question to a commoner on the road. 'How great must the virtue of your sovereign be to be loved so deeply by the people?' The commoner nodded along, but then suddenly said — that he himself had no idea whatsoever what the sovereign even did."
I spoke in an intentionally gentle voice.
"The minister was flabbergasted. Why would the people passionately praise a sovereign whose deeds they knew nothing of? Surely this ignorant peasant must be simple-minded. The minister cursed the man under his breath and went off to find someone else."
"……."
"So the minister asked the very same question to another person, and what do you know — the new respondent likewise answered that they had absolutely no idea what the sovereign looked like or what he did."
I could feel the people around me leaning in to listen to my voice.
It must have been because this was a story they had never heard before. I had only hastily adapted a tale I once heard about the golden age of ancient sage-kings. Well, there was no copyright to worry about. I would put it to good use.
"The third person asked, the fourth, and eventually the seventh — all of them spoke with one voice that they did not even know the sovereign's name. Only then did the minister come to a great realization. The people's primary concern has always been their own safety! When the world is bountiful and peaceful, what need would they have to know the sovereign's name or appearance? Conversely, when the world falls into chaos, the more turbulent it becomes, the more the people grow interested in their ruler — they toy with his name, they mock and ridicule his appearance."
From somewhere nearby, I caught the sound of a soft gasp of admiration. That's right. This wasn't a story I had invented, but it was truly a well-crafted parable.
"I came to visit the Trading Company, and your guards drove me away. They failed to recognize me as the Demon Lord. If, in this age, the Demon Lords had oppressed and tyrannized you as despots do, you would have committed every detail of the Demon Lord's appearance to memory and recognized me at once. The fact that no one in this crowded Trading Company recognized me brings me nothing but joy. Where is there cause for sorrow? Where is there cause for forgiveness?"
I smiled gently.
"Fortunately, I, Dantalion, can confirm here and now that I have not done any great wrong to any of you. Members of Kunkuska Trading Company, rise to your feet. It would be more discourteous for you to continue apologizing to me than to stop."
Starting with the executives, the employees of the Trading Company hesitantly rose.
Ivar Lodbrok cried out with a face overflowing with emotion:
"Your grace is most magnanimous, Your Highness!"
And so, one after another, voices rang out through the Trading Company building proclaiming his most magnanimous grace.
I smiled benevolently and gave Ivar Lodbrok a few pats on the shoulder. Ivar Lodbrok, too, beamed as he gestured me forward. Long live His Highness Dantalion! Long live His Highness Dantalion! The people around us chanted, raising a boisterous clamor.
I gave a subtle, eye-smiling look.
'If you thought I would meekly back down, you're sorely mistaken.'
At that, the corners of Ivar Lodbrok's eyes creased even more deeply.
"Would we not extol Your Highness's benevolence, given your concern even for a mere guard?"
"All the people working at the Trading Company seemed content and at peace, so I would rather praise your virtue."
In the end, he was just giving this long-winded speech because he didn't want to end things with merely punishing a single guard, wasn't he?
Exactly. As the one overseeing the Trading Company's employees, you should be the one taking responsibility. Why are you trying to cut off your tail by pulling such a stunt?
This was roughly the conversation playing out in real time. On the surface, we walked along, projecting an amicable atmosphere.
"Now then. Please, this way."
In one corner of the Trading Company, a Teleportation Device was installed. He said it would take us to the top floor. Although it was a device where the departure and arrival points were pre-arranged, the very fact that permission for teleportation magic had been granted showed the Kunkuska Trading Company's authority.
Only the two of us rode the Teleportation Device. We left the other executives behind.
"……."
"……."
The Trading Company's top floor was eerily silent. The boisterous atmosphere from just moments ago had vanished like a lie. As if we had come to another world, we walked with heavy footsteps, opened the door at the very end of the corridor, and entered.
A dark room.
A minotaur's severed head was mounted on the wall as decoration. Grotesque sculptures of spirits and monsters filled every space. A gloomy, oppressive air hung thickly around us. It could only be described as an exercise in poor taste.
And right in the center, ten coffins for vampires were arranged.
Ivar Lodbrok spoke.
"Your Highness. For me to reveal my true form is... the first time it has happened in two thousand years."
"I swear, invoking all the Goddesses, that I, Dantalion, shall not reveal your identity to anyone."
Ivar Lodbrok slowly nodded. With a face set in firm resolve, he walked forward. He chose one of the ten coffins and stepped inside. A moment later, another coffin opened, and a young girl walked out from within.
"Your humble servant, Ivar Lodbrok. I greet Your Highness Dantalion once more."
The blonde girl politely lifted the hem of her dress in a curtsy.
I studied the girl's face carefully.
"Master of Kunkuska. Just how far do you intend to keep deceiving me?"
"Pardon?"
The girl blinked.
"Whatever do you mean, Your Highness?"
"That is not your true form."
A small girl with golden hair. Up to this point, everything matched. However, the eye color of Ivar Lodbrok as depicted in the game illustrations had been... a violet hue, like amethyst.
The girl standing before me had black eyes. She was not Ivar Lodbrok's true form.
I smiled.
"This is my final warning. Do not presume to test me."
"......"
Without a sound.
A crack appeared in the face of the monster who commanded a colossal trading company.
"......How did you... know that?"
The girl's lips trembled as she spoke.
"My true form... no one, absolutely no one has ever seen it! How does Your Highness Dantalion know about it?!"
"There are no perfect secrets in this world. That is all."
The other party choked back her indignation and turned away.
She returned to the coffin she had emerged from. Then another coffin opened and something rose to its feet. With a creak the lid parted, and something like mist drifted out.
The girl stood, her body completely bare.
"..."
She slowly opened her eyes. They were violet.
"I greet you, His Highness Dantalion. I had resolved never to set foot in this world again, so I had no time to don proper attire — I humbly ask for your forgiveness."
True Ancestor Vampire. The greatest puppeteer. The one who commands a thousand bodies. The most despicable of all the traitors who abandoned the Demon Lord's army to join the Hero's party — and in Dungeon Attack, a heroine who even possesses her very own exclusive route.
With the girl standing before me, I broke into a wide grin.
"Ivar Lodbrok. So at last we meet."