The following day, the King was not woken, for he had never truly slept. His mind, a relentless battlefield, refused him peace. He lay on his bed, eyes wide, staring at the ornate canopy above. The moment he heard the urgent knock, he sprang from bed, donned his robes, and flung open the door. A lieutenant, pale and rigid, bowed low.
"Sire, General Samura and the others await in the war room. Your immediate presence is required."
The King merely nodded, dismissing the lieutenant. Agitation coiled in his gut. The war meeting was scheduled for later, but this early summons, this palpable tension, screamed of ill tidings. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that new, grim developments had unfolded.
Within five minutes, he was striding towards the war room. The palace felt eerily empty; his wife and child had been sent away for their safety, and most soldiers were at the front lines. Reaching the heavy oak doors, he paused, exhaled a slow, steady breath to compose himself, then pushed them open and stepped inside.
Every official in the room rose, a wave of solemn faces acknowledging his entry. The King nodded, and they resettled, their gazes fixed on him. Taking his seat at the head of the long table, he signaled for the meeting to begin.
Samura stood, and a hush fell over the room. Despite his youth, he commanded an undeniable respect. He placed a single, ominous piece of parchment on the table. "The new Demon King, Hadashi, sent this letter early this morning. With His Majesty's permission, I will read it now."
The King, still reeling from the lieutenant's words, gave a curt nod. Samura unfolded the letter, his voice cutting through the silence:
"I am giving the Human Kingdom an ultimatum. I offer two days to get your affairs in order and vacate the kingdom. I wish to avoid a full-out war at this point. My father made the mistake of drawing out this conflict. I am quite the opposite. I want this war over with as little bloodshed as possible. But if you refuse my generous offer, then I will end this war with more bloodshed than the world has ever seen. In other words, the total annihilation of the human race. Time is ticking."
Samura laid the letter down, his eyes meeting the King's. The King buried his face in his hands, a desperate need for solitude washing over him. After a moment, he looked up, his voice strained. "The last census was done six years ago, correct?"
Samura, sharp as ever, instantly grasped the King's intent. He turned to the stuttering secretary. "Uh, y-yes. Six years ago. The total tally was sixteen million. With the high natality increase, we're looking at a little over twenty million now."
"How long will it take to evacuate everyone through the southern border?"
The war minister, aghast, interjected, "Sire, surely you're not suggesting we abandon our homeland to those demons!"
The second General silenced him with a sharp glance. "Your faith in the King is surprisingly low, Minister. Trust in him and banish your doubts."
Samura answered the King's question, his voice calm amidst the rising panic. "If we use only the southern gate, it will take a few days to inform, rally, organize, and implement the evacuation. During this time, the Demon King will believe we are acceding to his demand, and he will not act irrationally."
"A few days, huh?" The King sighed, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders. "Just to begin, that is. Alright, then. Send a message to Commander Hai at the southeastern border. Tell him to bring his soldiers to the southern gate and have them open a few more breaches in the wall. Three exits will be faster than one. The Demon Army left the south open for a reason. They might be giving us a way out so they can move in."
Samura harbored cynicism about that assumption but held his tongue. He would address it later. "And then, Sire? What do we do after that?"
"After...? After we ensure every human civilian is safely out of the kingdom, we invite the demons in, a feigned retreat. We give the Demon King what he wants—a bloodbath. Only, it won't be human blood spilled. I cannot be a talker when a fighter is needed. A king cannot be too rigid, for rigidity is a deadly handicap in battle."
A steely resolve hardened the faces of the Generals and ministers. They began to filter out, each with a grim determination to commence the evacuation, until only Samura and the King remained.
"Your Majesty?" Samura called.
"I know," the King replied, his voice barely a whisper. "Hadashi won't give us an easy escape. He is already the worst of the World Leaders. But if he sees the evacuation and believes we are doing what he wants, it will create a blind spot—one we can exploit. Do you understand, Samura?"
"A momentary relaxation when one believes victory is assured. It is a soldier's bane. I understand completely, my Lord."
The King rose to his feet, his gaze distant. "Good. Let us take this to the throne room."
As they walked, a chilling realization dawned on Samura: the King's plan was a desperate gamble, one that hinged entirely on Hadashi's arrogance. But what if the Demon King was more cunning than they anticipated, and this 'blind spot' was, in fact, a meticulously laid trap?